


RA9 Help Us

by littlelooniepielover



Series: RA9 [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: All Connor wants is Hank's dick, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, And Chloe still doesn't have time for people's shit, Come on, Connor wants to win the bet, First Time, Gavin Reed needs to be hate fucked, Hand Jobs, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Markus is a gay disaster btw, New Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Revolution, Protective Connor, Protective Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 10:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelooniepielover/pseuds/littlelooniepielover
Summary: Detroit adjusts to life after The Revolution.Markus opens New Jericho.Connor moves in with Hank.A mysterious android goes on a murdering spree.And android-Gods really need a vacation.





	RA9 Help Us

“You sure you’re alright with this, Con?”

It’d been just over two weeks since the revolution; two weeks since he’d freed hundreds of androids from this exact building, since he was finally freed from Cyberlife’s clutches, and since he told Lieutenant Hank Anderson that he loved him. During those two weeks, there had been multiple developments in android rights: they could now explore jobs outside of their original programming, if hired they were given salaries, they could now own property, and Markus and his companions were working with the president to give androids the right to marry. Jericho had been rebuilt in the abandoned industrial complex donated by Detroit’s Mayor. It was completely run down, and needed a lot of work, but with hundreds of determined and homeless androids up to the task, they made it livable within a week. Connor helped where he was needed, and liked to believe he even became friends with Markus, North, Josh, and Simon in the process.

Connor himself had been officially hired with the DPD as an android homicide detective, Hank moving branches to stay on as his partner in crime. They’d been worried Captain Fowler would put up a fight, but he barely took two seconds to look the request over before he signed off and handed them their first official case. Gavin Reed, though still an asshole, had even warmed up to Connor a small fraction; he wasn’t sure if it was the fact Connor kicked his ass, or if it was the android revolution, but he wasn’t going to question it. He’d take the derogatory names over physical altercations any day.

Though what they were about to do might shatter that progress into a million pieces. Currently, they were meeting Markus at the Cyberlife Tower. The Jericho leader had received an anonymous tip that there was an awake android being held in stasis at the Cyberlife Tower and immediately requested its freedom. The company put up a brief fight, but the second Markus threatened bringing Connor in to help debate the android’s release, they instantly backed off. If he said it didn’t stroke his ego to know Cyberlife bowed out the second his name was brought up, he’d be lying. Once Markus received an approved date to come and retrieve it, Connor and Hank agreed to meet him there to give their assistance.

Connor finally pulled his attention from the looming Cyberlife Tower to look at Hank. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because this is the android Cyberlife was going to replace you with?” Hank clarified with an unimpressed brow. “They were literally putting him through the final phases of testing before Markus shut everything down.”

“I want to be—no, I _am_ angry, but I am not angry with the RK900. I am angry with Cyberlife for using me as a tool to try and stop androids from earning their freedom. All because they wanted to stay in business. They are who I am angry with. Besides, this way, we are able to wake RK900 with the solo mission of becoming his own person. Not hunting deviants, or me, or being a servant to this hell. Hopefully, it might even end with him willing to work with us at the DPD,” he explained cheerfully. At Hank’s eye roll, and his failed attempt at hiding a smile, Connor gently let his head fall to his shoulder. “Thank you for your concern though, Hank.”

“Yeah, well, somebody’s gotta try and keep you from doing stupid shit,” he grunted before kissing his head, just over his LED. It was one of the many reasons Connor had decided to keep it. “Alright, come on. Let’s find Android-Jesus and wake this bastard up.”

Markus was, thankfully, waiting just inside. His attention was glued to the large statue taking up the center of the floor. “Hello, Markus.”

He turned to them with a bright smile and mismatched eyes. “Hello again, Connor, lieutenant. I am glad you were able to assist me with this.”

“How’d you hear about this thing being trapped here, again?” Hank questioned.

He knew exactly how, but Connor and Hank had made a truce to keep the fact that the RT600 named Chloe was in fact the RA9 their race had put so much faith into. It felt—more polite to just keep it between the two of them. Chloe seemed to have trusted Connor in revealing her true identity, so he wanted to respect that decision. “I received an anonymous tip that an awakened android was being held here without any intentions of releasing it. They put up a fight about it, trying to claim it was an obsolete model that was shut down, but the second I asked to see it in person with the RK800 model dubbed Connor, they backed off and gave me permission to escort it to New Jericho.”

“So, what’s up with this mysterious android?”

“It is said to be an RK900 model. One that was, well—”

When his eyes shifted hesitantly to Connor, Connor shook his head. “It’s alright, Markus. Hank already knows Cyberlife intended for the RK900 model to replace me. And has promised not to rip it to shreds.”

Hank sighed deeply when Markus turned to him as if for confirmation. “Yeah, he made me promise. He also reminded me that it isn’t the android’s fault Cyberlife created him. Just makes me hate this damn company ten times more than I already did.”

Connor gently pat his shoulder in sympathy, Markus grinning widely at him. “Glad we are all on the same page then. Now, shall we? They have already given me the RK’s location.”

“Is he still in stasis?” Connor asked as they followed Markus towards the elevator. He blatantly ignored the faded blood stains on the floor and wall once they were inside.

“Yes. Those who were working on his programming have long since fled, and those that remained did not know how to properly wake him,” Markus explained before turning his attention to the elevator’s floor panel. “RK200 Markus, level sub-44.”

“Voice recognition validated,” the elevator chimed. “Access authorized.”

When the elevator began to drop, Markus turned to them again. “Do you think he will truly want to work with the DPD?”

Connor shrugged. “I believe he would be a huge asset to the precinct, but ultimately the decision will be up to him. His programming might be for investigation and criminal hunting, but once he becomes aware, who knows what he will find interest in.”

“Like the PC200 that use to work with us,” Hank added with a grin. “After the revolution, he expanded his horizons and realized he loved baking.”

“His name is Trevor and he now works for the bakery around the corner from New Jericho,” Connor corrected for Markus. “Hank gets donuts from there on his free days.”

“Free days?”

Hank groaned dramatically. “My android-nanny has cracked down on my diet. I’d throw more of a fit about it, but the bastard can cook and, so far, I haven’t hated everything he’s made me.”

At Markus’ confused frown, Connor waved at him. “Hello, I am Hank’s android-nanny. I make sure he not only eats properly, but gets a proper amount of exercise through the week as well.”

“I hate you, so much.”

Connor, however, beamed at him, Hank instantly crumbling with his own smile. “You love me and you know it.”

“Shut-up, there are witnesses.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Markus insisted with a wink.

When the elevator began to slow, all of them turned to attention. The floor was abnormally dark when the doors finally opened. “They cut back on power in this place or something? I can barely see a hand in front of my face.”

“Spread out,” Markus suggested. “Knowing Cyberlife, they made it as hard as possible to find him.”

“Come on, Hank,” Connor gently tugged at his sleeve, “my eyesight is better than yours.”

“Watch it. I _will_ make you sleep mode on the couch.”

This particular development lab wasn’t all that large, but it was filled with multiple pieces of testing equipment. Some of it Connor—somewhere in the deep depths of his memories—actually remembered. Which was not something he wanted to stop and dwell on; he already had enough trauma accumulated from this place. Just as he and Hank began to search through one of the large storage cabinets, they heard Markus call out, “over here!”

They found him at one of the back corners staring up at the exact same RK900 Chloe had shown him in their joined mind place. The android was definitely tall, a few inches taller than Connor but not quite as tall as Hank. “Damn,” Hank whistled, “he’s definitely got the goofy face. Even his damn jacket is similar. This place sure did obsess over you, didn’t they? Have I mentioned how much I hate it?”

Connor risked a kiss to his shoulder, earning a warm glance in response. “Well, should we introduce him to the world?” Markus suggested. “Connor, would you do the honors, please?”

Connor stepped forward and gently grasped the RK900’s forearm. The second his skin receded, he initiated the interface with a sharp, “wake up!”

The RK’s eyes snapped open, ice-blue irises dilating a few times as his optical sensors kicked back online. Connor took a few steps back to give him space; he knew all too well how stressful it was to wake to a room full of strangers. “Where—where am I?”

Well, that answered whether or not he was aware; usually when androids woke, they waited for instructions, or stated their name or model number, depending on their settings. They never woke up with a question unless they were already beyond being a machine. Had he deviated before his testing could even be completed? So much for preventing the deviation process in the RK series. If anything, it happened quicker in their models. Either way, it made their job ten times easier. “You are still in the Cyberlife Tower, but we have come to release you,” Markus explained.

“Release me?” the RK900 frowned. His voice was deeper than Connor’s, and those eyes of his made him even more intimidating. “I have not completed the proper testing for integration yet.”

“A lot has happened since you first woke up,” Connor slowly began. “A revolution occurred fifteen days ago that succeeded in releasing androids. We are now free to be our own beings: there are laws protecting us, we can work jobs within, or outside, our original programming for a salary just like humans, and we can own property.”

Connor could see the information processing through the RK, but the trio was patient; pressure was not the goal here. “I was created as a superior version of my predecessor—”

At the slight widening of his eyes, Connor knew the RK just realized who he was. “Hello, RK900. I am the RK800 model, Connor. Cyberlife created you to be a better, faster, more intelligent deviant hunter than myself. Unfortunately, thanks to the revolution, our deviant hunting jobs are now non-existent considering androids are protected by the American Government.”

“If we have no purpose, then why have we not been deactivated?”

“Like Connor said before, androids can be _more_ than their original programming. Some AX400 models I know are now training to become teachers, and one has even taken a job as a professional mermaid at the local aquarium. A handful of WX400 models have shown interests in firefighting, and a PC200 has apparently gone from crime fighting to baking,” Markus sorted through the easiest examples. “But, there are also those who have stuck to what they know. Connor, for example, still works for the DPD. They kept the android homicide department and Connor continues to work alongside Lieutenant Anderson here to bring justice to the proper criminals, whether they be human or android.”

“Makes up for the months I spent hunting deviants down,” Connor said with a shrug.

The RK900’s eyes went from Markus, to Connor, before settling on Hank. “But, you are human. You work willingly alongside an android?”

Hank shrugged. “I’ll be the first to admit I was a dick when I first found out I was going to be working with some fancy-schmancy prototype from Cyberlife. But, Connor—well, he was able to open my eyes to my prejudices. He showed me that, despite being made of wires and plastic, you lot truly are alive. You’ve got feelings, and fears, just like the rest of us, and I was wrong to assume otherwise.”

“Lieutenant Anderson became a key piece to our winning the revolution. Without their partnership, I do not believe we would be free right now.”

Thankfully the RK did not notice the way Connor’s cheeks flamed. “And other humans?”

“There are mixed feelings on both sides,” Connor continued as he unnecessarily cleared his throat to regain his composure. “Some humans will always despise us, and some androids will always despise humans, but the majority were supportive of the merge of societies. And, so far, things have been working out for the best between both sides.”

When he fell silent, they allowed him a few minutes to chew the new information over. Connor understood, though he hoped the fact Cyberlife could no longer control the RK would help him accept that he was now in control of his own life. It definitely would have helped Connor deviate a lot faster. “So, I no longer have to work for Cyberlife?” All of them shook their heads. “If I cannot stay here, where will I go now?”

“I am one of the head volunteers at an android sanctuary called New Jericho,” Markus said, blatantly leaving out the fact he was actually Jericho’s leader. Connor didn’t question his angle though. “Once the revolution ended, my companions and I knew we would need to find a safe place for androids to go. It has taken us almost two weeks, but the complex is now up and running, allowing us to give shelter and resources to many androids in need. You can stay there for as long as you find necessary; we understand you have a lot to think over.”

“Yeah,” the RK nodded slowly, “I think I would like that.”

“Wonderful!”

“Connor and I would like you to know that, if you still find yourself wanting to hunt down actual criminals, we’ve got an opening at the DPD just for you. No skin off our noses if you find it’s not what you want to do anymore though, just thought I’d throw it out there. If you become a baker like our PC200 friend though, I expect free samples.”

Connor smacked his shoulder. “Hank!”

That, however, got a small smile from the RK900. “Thank you. I will—consider it.”

They left after that, Connor having to physically hold Hank’s arms down to prevent him from flipping all of the remaining Cyberlife workers off as they sneered at their exit. When they reached their respectable vehicles—Hank’s beat up car and the autonomous taxi Markus showed up in—they bid their good-byes after promises of updates from both sides. 

“How are you feeling?” Hank asked once he started the engine and pulled off back towards the bridge. “That was a bit intense, even for me.”

When he offered his hand palm up, Connor immediately took it between both of his before tucking his head against Hank’s shoulder. They weren’t on duty, so Connor could cling as much as he wanted. “I feel better knowing Cyberlife can never control him the way they did me. Especially since I am 99.1% sure he was already deviated before I woke him.”

“No shit? I thought their preventative measures for deviancy skyrocketed when they started realizing you failed to avoid it?”

“Such big words, lieutenant,” Connor teased, giggling when Hank lifted their joined hands to snap his teeth at his fingers. “Looks like their efforts produced opposite results.”

“Serves them right, the idiots.”

When they returned home, Sumo was right there to greet them with sloppy kisses. Connor had only been officially living with Hank for two weeks now, but he’d loved every second. They wake up together, Connor makes him breakfast and coffee before feeding Sumo, then they go to the DPD together. After working that day’s case, sometimes even solving it within a few hours, they come home so Connor can make him a healthy dinner, and then they cuddle on the couch watching TV until Hank finally dubs it bedtime. The make out sessions in between all of this were also wonderful.

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Connor asked as he peered into the fridge. Hank snatched a beer from over his shoulder before shrugging. “How about spaghetti squash?”

“As long as you drown it in tomato sauce and mozzarella like last time.”

“Let me add chicken breasts and you have a deal on the mozzarella.”

“Fine, fine,” Hank grunted before wrapping his arm around Connor’s waist and pulling them chest to chest. “Have I told you how fucking amazing you are?”

Connor pretended to ponder the question as he hip-checked the fridge closed before sliding his hands up his chest to cup his neck. “I don’t believe I’ve heard it yet today.”

“Well then,” Hank announced as he set his beer onto the counter, allowing him use of both his hands. His fingers trailed up and down Connor’s sides before dipping beneath the hemming of his button-up to trace his hips, his rough lips pressing against the calm blue of his LED. “You are _amazing_. You are the smartest, toughest, most beautiful person I have ever known, and I am the luckiest bastard in the world. Do you want to know why, Con?”

Connor shivered as Hank’s large, warm hands moved up to curl around his ribs, rucking his shirt up beneath his arms while his lips brushed from his temple, to his jaw, before dragging down to his collarbone just visible beneath the open collar. Hank might have been terrible at receiving compliments, but damn could he deal them out with the smoothness of a salesman. With the lieutenant’s arms curled tightly around him, all Connor could do was grip his shoulders and hold on for dear life. “Wh-why?”

“Because I am the only one who gets to see you like this. Gets to _taste_ you, gets to _feel_ you, gets to hear those _fucking gorgeous_ noises you make when I—“Connor moaned when Hank nibbled at the skin just beneath his ear, his fingers curling into Hank’s shirt as his knees buckled. “More than that, somehow you fell in love with this lucky bastard.”

Connor decided to respond by using the grip on his shoulders to pull him down into a rough kiss, his nails raking up his scalp before he gripped at salt and pepper hair. He was 1000% sure he would never get over touching Hank, let alone kissing him. They’d only gotten to the shirtless over-pants touching phase of their budding relationship—where Hank found out Connor was ‘_not a Ken Doll down there_’ and when questioned why Connor had a dick, Connor had to give the uncomfortable explanation of how Cyberlife intended the RK series to get information at whatever cost, even if that meant using his provided genitalia and anus as leverage, in which Hank responded with multiple curse words towards Cyberlife and how no one should have to resort to being a damn honeypot—but Connor would never pass up the chance to touch Hank’s bare skin. Hank was still self-conscious about his body, how it wasn’t what it was even five years ago, but Connor loved the softness. Loved everything about this man.

Just as he made to tug the offending t-shirt off of Hank, however, Captain Fowler’s name crossed his vision, his eye twitching as his LED cycled yellow. “You alright?” Hank questioned when Connor pulled away. “Your night light is flickering.”

“Captain Fowler needs us at the precinct,” Connor said as he quickly read over the message. “A case came in about an android attacking a human, and he needs us to investigate right away.”

“Of course,” Hank grumbled. Then, the disappointment was suddenly replaced by a shit-eating grin. “Looks like we are going to have to pick lunch up on the way!”

“We are not going to Chicken Feed!” Connor warned as Hank gave him one last chaste kiss before retreating down the hallway. It might have been where Connor first confessed he loved Hank, and where they shared their first kiss, but that did not change the fact the place was crawling with salmonella. “I mean it, Hank! That place has failed inspection three times in the past year!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you over my grumbling stomach!”

They did not, thank Chloe, end up going to the Chicken Feed. Instead, Hank pulled up to one of the new sandwich shops that’d just opened down the street from the precinct. They pulled up to the supposed crime scene fifteen minutes later, Hank stuffing the rest of his lunch into his face as soon as Connor parked. “The blue house, I’m assuming?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Considering someone has already taped the location off, and there are multiple police cars parked along the street, I do indeed believe it is the blue house.”

“Ok, sassy-britches,” Hank scoffed before sliding out, Connor right behind him. Ben Collins was already waiting for them when they arrived, nose nearly pressed to his tablet. “You alright there, Collins?”

Collins glanced up, blinking multiple times before chuckling. “Forgot my glasses at home. Hansen says he’s got a spare in his car, so he’s going to look for them.”

“Well, in the meantime, what can your blind-ass tell me about what happened here?”

Connor listened intently to Collins’ report as they followed him inside the residence. “Home owners name is Nina Banes. She called 911 claiming she’d been attacked by her friend, Lucy. Line cut out before the operator could get much more information out of her. When cops showed up, however, they found one human-female and one android-female, both deceased, in the living room.”

Sure enough, when Collins led them down the main hallway, they found crime scene analysts photographing two bodies; one brunette female was lying prone between the couch and coffee table, while the other raven-haired female was sprawled out just in front of the entrance hall. “Looks like the AX400 tried to make a break for the door,” Hank noted. “Do they have names?”

“The brunette is our homeowner, Nina Banes. The AX400 is registered as Lucy, who was once owned by Nina. Apparently, from what we’ve been told by neighbors, Lucy returned to live with Nina after the revolution.”

“So, they were close,” Connor reiterated, Collins nodding. “If Lucy attacked Nina like she claimed, why are both suffering from bullet wounds?”

“And why does it look like Lucy was trying to make a run for it?” Hank added curiously. “I’ll get the rest of the info collected from Collins. You take a look around, ok?”

**[Mission: **  
**Find Evidence of Outside Assailant] **

Connor nodded his understanding before beginning to roam the residence. He started with analyzing Nina’s body first, eyes scanning from the bullet wound perfectly square between her eyes down to the finger bruises around her wrists and throat. The marks weren’t fatal, though it did seem like something had attempted to kill her before shooting her in the face, corroborating the 911 phone call she had made. He dipped his fingers into the splatter of blue blood just visible along one of the fingermarks. “Lieutenant, close your eyes!”

“God dammit!” Hank snapped before there was the sound of a hand clapping over his face. Connor couldn’t help his grin as he pressed the sample to his tongue. “Fucking disgusting.”

Sure enough, the blood came back as a match to the AX400, proving she’d tried to kill Nina. Had Nina shot Lucy in self-defense, then shot herself out of guilt? Considering there were no powder burns around Nina’s wound, he doubted that was the case here.

After lifting the body, and checking beneath both the couch and table, without any sign of a gun, Connor moved on to Lucy’s body. His eyes roamed over the bullet wound, comparing the damage to Nina’s, before coming up with a 99.8% match. So, these fatalities came from the same gun. But where was it? Just as Connor was about to begin searching the rest of the house, he noticed that the panel at the back of Lucy’s neck was open. He immediately turned to the closest analyst. “Did anyone touch the AX400’s body?”

The woman shook her head. Then why was this panel open? Had Lucy touched it during the struggled? When he scanned it, only to find no fingerprints around it, he decided to dig a little deeper. Without risking the chance of unplugging anything further, Connor gently poked his finger through the mess of wires hidden beneath. At first, it didn’t seem like anything had been tampered with, like it truly had been accidentally opened. Just as he made to retreat, however, he noticed that one single wire had been disconnected.

“What have you found out so far?”

Connor briefly glanced at Hank as he crouched next to him before jutting his chin over to Nina’s body. “Nina Banes has bruises, confirming her story of having been attack by Lucy. They were not what killed her though.”

“I’m assuming that would be the bullet in her forehead.”

“Correct. I ran a scan and the gun used on Nina is the same caliber used on Lucy.”

“But, based on the crime scene, it doesn’t look like a murder-suicide.”

“That, and the fact I have yet to find a gun. If Nina had shot Lucy during her escape, it would still be by her body.”

“So, either we are dealing with someone trying to cover the crime up, or…”

“There is a murderer on the run out there,” Connor finished for him. Judging by the way he was helping Connor through explaining, he’d already come to the exact same conclusion before he’d even approached him. Sometimes, he couldn’t get over just how smart the lieutenant was. “I also found something else that might help us figure out what caused Lucy to attack Nina in the first place.”

“Lay it on me.”

“The panel on the back of Lucy’s neck was open, which is unusual to begin with. As I began poking around, however, I noticed one of the wires inside had been unplugged.”

“Sure it wasn’t knocked loose during a struggle or something?”

“Anyone who didn’t know the inner workings of an android would assume so.”

When Hank finally noticed Connor smirking at him, he rolled his eyes. “Ok, you smartass android. What does the wire do that is so concerning?”

“This is essentially a physical firewall for older-year modeled androids, like Lucy was,” he explained, taking mercy on the older man. “Nowadays, they have it programmed into our systems for easier maintenance—”

“Didn’t keep Cyberlife from hacking your firewall thing and trying to force you to commit murder.”

Connor’s face softened as he gently grasped Hank’s arm with his free hand. “I’m ok, Hank. Markus was able to help me block Cyberlife’s connection permanently, remember?”

Hank blew out a sigh as he gripped his fingers in return. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be bitter about what they’ve done to you. Alright, so what happens when this wire is unplugged?”

“It leaves the android vulnerable to outside influences.”

“Do they have to be physically connected to access them?” Hank followed. “Or, once the firewall is unplugged, do they have free wireless access?”

“Free wireless access, but only the more advanced android models have the capability to hack androids like this.”

“So, not even a newer model AX400 could come in and hack them through the magic hand-touch thing you do?”

Connor shook his head fondly; God, he was so in love with this adorable human. “Interfacing allows us to share information or even communicate. It does not allow androids to dig through another’s programming. No, I’d say only the RK series would be able to do this, especially to a model as old as Lucy. Though I’m still not even sure what they did once they hacked inside, nor what the point was to all of this.”

“How is this possible though?” Hank frowned. “You are the only survivor of the creepy Connor models, and we were in the middle of waking the RK900 model up with Robo-Jesus when Nina made the 911 call. The only three surviving RK models have all been accounted for.”

“That’s what makes all of this so concerning. After Chloe revealed Cyberlife created the RK900 model, I searched Cyberlife’s database to make sure there were no more surprises. The only results that came up for models that’d been awoken in the RK series were myself, Markus, RK900, and the RK800-60 model that you shot in the face.”

“Dick deserved it.”

“Oh, I agree with you, but it still gives us nothing to go on,” Connor sighed with a frown. “Either there’s an android out there that somehow ended up with an RK’s programing, or there’s something deeper going on here.”

“Welp, since there’s nothing more we can do here, we might as well let the crime scene team close up while we head to the precinct,” Hank suggested as he stood, his knees popping loudly as he moved. Connor winced in sympathy. “Maybe we will be able to find something to connect the dots with a little research.”

Connor follow Hank back to his car, this time letting him slide into the driver’s seat as he took his spot in the passenger. When Connor had been officially hired onto the DPD, the first day in the precinct had been tense. Most of the human officers had no idea what to do around him or the handful of PC200 and PM700 models that’d decided to return to the force. It wasn’t until halfway through the day, when Hank bellowed out a laugh at something snarky Connor had said under his breath before punching him in the shoulder, that things lightened up. Connor couldn’t pin-point why Hank’s actions towards him had been the tipping point, but by the end of the day a handful of human cops were cracking their own jokes with the newly deviated androids. Maybe they thought that, when the androids returned, they’d want to take over? Or they feared androids could never have the emotions or sense of humor as their human counterparts? Sure, androids were superior in multiple ways, but that wasn’t the point of the revolution. All they wanted was to be seen as equal, to work side-by-side with humans instead of being forced into their footsteps. Connor wasn’t stupid enough to believe everything would be rainbows and kittens, there would always be hate woven between their species, but the fact there were now three official human-android teams at the DPD showed hope for the future.

Along with a possible future fourth.

“Good-morning Lieutenant Anderson, Connor,” the ST300 greeted them when they walked through the main doors. 

The receptionist had been one of the handful of android DPD workers to return. Connor liked her; she was bright and cheerful with everyone that came in. “Morning, Penny,” Hank said with a nod of his head, Connor waving as they passed her.

The bullpen was bustling when they walked in. Considering that half of their android staff had officially quit, along with multiple human staff members who couldn’t stand the thought of having to treat an android like an actual human being, they were spread thin on cases. From what Connor had heard, however, there were multiple applications coming through, from both human and android. He hoped one of these days they would find one from RK900. When they reached their desks, Connor having made the empty one across from Hank’s officially his own, he waited for Hank to sit down. “I’ll go make you some coffee.”

“Con, you know—”

“Yes, I know it’s no longer my job, but I want to. Besides, there is a box of donuts in the break room, and I know you are going to try and sneak one.”

Hank groaned, head falling back over the top of his chair. “Can’t I just make today my free day?” 

Connor merely shot him a wink before making his way through the bullpen. “Back to work, lieutenant!”

The break room was thankfully empty when he made his way inside. Since the pot in the maker didn’t look anywhere near fresh, Connor decided to dump it for a new one. He doubted anyone would mind anyway. “Hey! I just made that!”

Or there would be _one_ who would mind. “That batch had been sitting here for two hours and forty-three minutes, Detective Reed,” Connor explained calmly as he lined up three sugar packets and a serving of half-and-half, the coffee maker beginning to hum its start-up.

He could hear Reed huff sharply through his nose before his boots stomped across the room to stand next to him; just because he was being nicer, didn’t mean Reed still wasn’t the ‘_grumpy trash panda_’ he’d always been. It took Connor almost a full three days to figure out that Hank was referring to Reed as a racoon. “That’s not the point, tin can.”

“You can wait five minutes for this new pot to finish. I’ll even give you the first cup before I make Lieutenant Anderson’s.”

Reed’s mouth opened and closed multiple times before he gave in with a ‘hmph’ sound and shoved his hip loudly against the counter, arms crossed. Connor frowned when the force disturbed his neatly lined sugar packets. “Still making the old bastard’s coffee?”

Connor shrugged as he straightened them again. “I may not be required to do it anymore, but it is still something mundane that I enjoy.”

“But you still won’t make mine, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Prick.”

There was no real heat behind the curse, so Connor simply picked up one of the paper cups and handed it to him as a peace offering. Reed, being Reed, snatched it from his hand before filling it with the just-barely-finished-brewing coffee. Then, after dumping a mountain of sugar into it, flipped Connor off and marched back to his desk. Connor shook his head after him then turned his attention to making sure Hank’s coffee was perfect. If in a rush, Hank wasn’t against drinking his coffee jet-black, but if given the chance he liked a bit of sweetness to counter the bitter. It was one of the little things that only Connor had ever noticed about the lieutenant.

When he returned to Hank’s desk, those blue eyes lit up the second he spotted Connor. “You are amazing, have I ever told you that?”

“Occasionally,” Connor teased before handing the cup over and making his way for his own desk. 

If they’d been at home, Connor would have demanded multiple kisses in exchange for said cup, but considering they were in a professional work environment, he had to tame himself. It wasn’t that they were hiding the fact they were in a relationship outside of work too, but considering that tensions between the android and human communities were still tense, they thought it safer to keep it under wraps for now. If they were still arguing over androids getting basic civil rights, finding out that that an android and human were involved romantically would push them all over board with accusations of ‘the android is just obeying the human out of fear’, ‘the android manipulated the human’, blah, blah, blah. They had enough on their plate without that.

“So,” Hank hummed after taking a few sips, “I figured that, since you know all the android stuff, you could hunt for any similar cases like today. Also, research if there has ever been a case of another android showing similar programming to the RK series. Meanwhile, I will check the security cameras in the surrounding area and see if maybe we caught someone suspicious near the Banes residence. Sound good?”

**[Mission Revision:**  
**Find RK Series Similarities**

“Sounds great.”

After searching through everything in the database, however, he couldn’t find one shred of wire tampering in any of the android cases. Sure, wires had been ripped from body parts and panels forced open, but nothing anywhere similar to what had happened with Lucy. It felt almost—experimental. Like a mad-scientist’s first dabble into whatever hypothesis they were building.

“Welp!” Hank’s voice cut into his thoughts, Connor’s eyes darting from his terminal. “I have watched so much security footage, my eyes have officially gone cross. What do you say about heading home? We can take Sumo for a walk before the snow starts back-up tonight.”

Connor’s first instinct was to argue they needed to do more research, but the second he spotted the clock on his terminal, he caved; it was already passed six, longer than they usually stayed at the precinct. Sumo would be cranky if his dinner was late, and a walk around the neighborhood did sound nice. “Alright.”

He closed down his terminal before patiently waiting for Hank to do the same. They were sure to keep friendly space between them as they made their way for the car, not wanting to raise any brows until they were pulling out of the parking lot. The second Hank came to the first stoplight up the block though, Connor immediately pressed his cheek against Hank’s shoulder with a gentle sigh. Hank chuckled, running his right hand up into his hair. “How are you doin’, Con?”

Connor responded by reaching up to lace his fingers between Hank’s rough thick ones before bringing it down to kiss his palm. “Right now, I feel…content. Is that odd considering our line of work?”

“If you can’t leave all the anger and hatred for the sick bastards we hunt down at work, then you’ll never be able to feel anything but,” Hank explained as he squeezed his fingers. “Took my divorce to realize that. Then, after Cole died, it took a lot more to try and separate it. Failed most of the time despite.”

“And now?”

This time, Hank switched their hands so he could press a kiss to the center of Connor’s palm. When his skin receded at the contact, his thirium pump fluttered; the first time this had happened, when Hank’s lips touched his chassis, he’d attempted to pull away. Attempted to force his skin normal again so not to freak Hank out. Figuring he’d ruined the moment, Connor had tried to change the subject, only for Hank to pull him close again. Being the-gentle-giant he was, he’d explained that every time he told Connor he loved him, that meant all of him: his wires, his components, his chassis. All of it made Connor who he was, and there would never be a day where Hank would love him any less because of it. Now, whenever Hank kissed his true skin, it filled Connor with a warmth that spread down all the way down to his toes.

“Now, I’ve got someone who makes it impossible to bring the dark shit home. Not when his goofy smile lights up every room he enters.”

“My smile is handsome and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When they got home, Sumo greeted them with multiple boofs and nudges towards the kitchen. Hank relented, huffing the entire time he filled the St. Bernard’s food bowl, while Connor set out a few chicken breasts to thaw for Hank’s dinner. Hank needed something more than the sandwich he’d had almost six hours ago. Once he’d finished, like Hank promised, they hooked Sumo’s leash to his collar and began to make their way around the neighborhood. Since the evacuation on the city had lifted, the neighborhoods had slowly begun to fill back up. Some families came back, others only came back for their stuff, while others even went as far as to sell their house with everything in it. It was extreme, but change as large as the revolution could be terrifying for those who refused to understand. Besides, less neighbors meant a quieter neighborhood, and it helped Connor enjoy his stasis at night.

After Connor cooked Hank spaghetti squash with tomato sauce and mozzarella smothered chicken, they settled on the couch to wind down with some TV. Sometimes, they’d watch a game of Hank’s choice, other times a movie, or they’d start a random TV series that peaked one of their interest. Sure, he could download the entirety of a movie or show and know its entire plot in seconds, but he liked to watch them with Hank’s commentary in the background. Other times when they curled up on the couch, things got a little more…heated. And, considering their interrupted moment in the kitchen earlier, Connor intended tonight to be one of those nights. He’d purposely set his pleasure sensors for it and everything.

The movie Hank had chosen—a mafia movie they’d watched last week—had barely gotten through the opening title scene before Connor was hoisting himself up and into Hank’s lap. Hank’s brows shot up though his hands still gripped Connor’s hips to keep him planted against his thighs. It wasn’t like this was the first time Connor had initiated intimacy, but this was the first time he’d been so bold about it. Hank didn’t seem against it though. “You need something, Connor?”

“I do believe you were telling me how amazing I was in the kitchen earlier this evening,” Connor answered as he placed his hands onto Hank’s shoulders.

“Ah, does my little android have a praise-kink?” Connor quickly searched the phrase, only for his entire face to flame. Hank chuckled as his thumbs dipped beneath the band of the sweatpants that barely hung on Connor’s hips. “You like when I say how fucking fantastic you are? When you do great on a case or when you cook something amazing for me?”

Connor swallowed thickly before nodding. “Y-yes.”

“And how about when I tell you how gorgeous you are?” Hank’s voice dropped low, shivers surging down Connor’s spine as his eyes fluttered closed. “Or when I tell you that I was lying out my ass the day I told you Cyberlife fucked up with your looks? How you’re the prettiest fucking thing I have ever seen and that I’ve wanted to shove my tongue down your throat since the day I met you?”

Connor couldn’t stop the way he ground his hips down against Hank’s with a soft whine, sharply inhaling through his nose when he felt himself growing in his sweats, something even thicker growing in Hank’s. God, he wished he could see all of him; Connor would say that Cyberlife endowed him with an average length and girth, but whoever had created Hank gave him the cock to match his beastly frame and Connor _wanted_. “Please, Hank.”

Hank, being the gentleman that he was, responded by slipping his hands down the back of Connor’s sweats to cup his ass and squeeze. Connor sputtered at the contact before sharply bending down to slam his mouth against Hank’s. This was the first time he’d been touched bare in such an intimate area and holy shit did it spark everything in his systems like wildfire. He whimpered as Hank began to knead the synthetic flesh, those massive hands easily able to work both cheeks. 

“Want to know about the first time I thought about fucking you?” Hank whispered as he broke away to nuzzle his LED. Connor managed a nod as he panted wetly into his neck, his hips bucking when he felt the sweats pull down to his thighs, his own length catching in the front and giving him friction he didn’t know he’d desperately needed. He’d felt arousal, but nothing they’d done before had felt like this, and he wanted more. “It was while we were hunting that blue-haired Traci through the Eden Club. Don’t get me wrong, that place was disgusting and I’m glad it’s long since shut-down, but imagining you in one of those little outfits, seeing all that pale freckled skin I knew was hiding beneath that pretentious suit, all on display for me—_fuck_, Connor. I wanted to fuck you right there where anyone could see.”

The second Connor felt a rough finger press dryly against his hole, the world blinked out, his body vibrating as he orgasmed harder than anything he’d ever experienced.

**[Rebooting…]**

**[Rebooting…]**

**[Rebooting Complete]**

When he blinked back to reality, he found himself slumped fully against Hank, his sweatpants properly slipped back up into place, and a damp coolness tacky at the front. “Back with me?” Hank questioned, fingers continuing through Connor’s hair.

“S-sorry,” Connor mumbled, though made no movement to sit up. “I’ve never—that was a lot.”

“Can’t imagine what actually fucking you is going to do to your systems. I didn’t even get a finger in you and look what happened,” Hank teased. “Seriously though, you doing ok?”

Connor nodded against his collarbone before finally managing to push himself upright. “Yeah, but you didn’t get to finish.”

“Hey,” Hank tipped his head up, forcing his eyes up from the flagging bulge in Hank’s basketball shorts, “watching you cum so hard you short-circuited did it for me. I mean fuck, that was hot.”

Instead of arguing that he did not, in fact, short-out, he offered a sheepish smile. “Yeah?”

Hank used the grip on his chin to pull him down into a kiss. “Yes. Now, what do you say to hitting the hay? And no, not actual hay, it’s just a saying.”

Ignoring the jelly feeling in his limbs, Connor managed to stagger back to his feet, Hank stabling him with a hand around his waist. After depositing Connor onto the bed, Hank went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving him to settle comfortably beneath the sheets. His entire body felt sated, his eyes already closed by the time he heard the sink turn off and felt the mattress dip next to him. Hank pulled him into his side, Connor’s arm sliding around his waist to grip his hip before he tucked his face into Hank’s neck. “Good-night, Hank.”

Rough lips were the last thing Connor felt, Hank’s chest rumbling with a soft, “night, Con.”

**[Entering Stasis]**

**[Allotted Time?]**

**[6 hours]**

Over the next few days, they made no break on the Nina Banes and Lucy case. Connor found no other cases, or even rumors, involving another android possessing the abilities of the RK series. They were kept busy, though: on Tuesday they had to deal with the attempted murder of an AP700 by his human neighbor, on Thursday they arrested a TR400 model after he ‘accidentally’ shot the JB300 store owner while attempting to rob him, Friday involved a WR600 model killing his human lover and the BL100 model he found in bed with him, and today they were handling—well…

“Ok,” Hank grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose, “explain this shit to me one more time, Miller.”

“Do you see the brunet Collins is shoving into my squad car?” Miller motioned over his shoulder. Connor followed the point just in time to see the man being shoved into said car. “That is Brandon Hills. Thirty minutes ago, witnesses watched him stab our victim, Carlos Hernandez, in the chest at least ten times. When he tried to make a break for it, the GJ500 model over there apprehended him and held him for us until an officer could arrive on scene.”

“And Hills stabbed Hernandez because—?”

Miller huffed out a sigh. “Because Hills believed Hernandez was an android.”

Connor frowned down at the clearly bright red blood that’d pooled around Hernandez’s body. “On what basis? And why continue stabbing him after he’d realized he clearly _was not_ an android?”

“Something is fishy here,” Hank squinted at the car they’d loaded Hills into. “My guess? He knew Hernandez was human, but figured killing a supposed android would give him less time than killing a human.”

“Which is no longer true,” Connor corrected. “Murdering an android can carry the same sentence as murdering a human now.”

“Doesn’t mean someone with a vendetta cares. He just wanted to try and play the system to get off with an easier sentence,” Hank tried to explain. “Bring him down to the station. We’ll try and get a real answer out of him after he soaks in a holding cell for a few hours.”

“I’ll have—”

“Stop!”

All three of them turned to find Collins on the ground and Hills taking off down the sidewalk, the cuffs dangling from his right wrist. Connor took off after him before anyone could ask, following closely behind two other officers as they attempted to pursue the escapee. 

Hills wound them through multiple back alleys, trying to slow them down by knocking over trashcans and stacks of boxes, but it wasn’t until he clambered over a fence that Connor had to separate from the other officers. He easily scaled the fence and continued after Hills, gaining speed on him when Hill’s pace slowed to dart down a staircase that led to the failed subway project the city had tried to start decades ago.

When Connor reached the last step, he was greeted by darkness and silence, the light from the open stairway just barely casting the floor in a soft glow. Unfortunately, despite multiple Sci-Fi theories floating around out there, androids could not see in the dark and his LED was in fact nowhere near bright enough to mimic a flashlight. Considering he was surrounded by pitch black, and he was unarmed—they were currently waiting for the law to pass that allowed androids on the force to carry guns—Connor needed to keep on his toes. Slowly he made his way through the dark corridor, his auditory sensors straining to catch anything abnormal that wasn’t outside noise or vermin. As the silence only stretched, that feeling of being watched heightening, he decided to try another tactic.

“Come out, Hills! There’s nowhere else to run, it’s over!” he shouted, his voice reverberating off of the walls. There was a soft shuffle from his left, his head sharply turning to follow it. “We all know you lied about believing Carlos Hernandez was an android. You wanted him dead and assumed claiming he was an android would have gotten you off. But the laws have changed! Killing an android carries the same weight as killing a human! And you are going away for Carlos Hernandez’s murder for a very long time.”

Connor barely had time to brace himself for the weight that slammed into is left side, but was easily able to shove Hills off the second they hit the floor. As he shifted back to his feet, however, he could see the glint of a knife clutched in the man’s hand. 

**[Mission:**  
**Disarm Hills**  
**and Return to Custody]**

**[Parameters:**  
**Terminate if Necessary]**

When Hills lunged at him, Connor easily blocked the wild swing before kicking in his knee and shoving him back to the floor. Hills bounced twice before stumbling back standing. Seeming to ignore the obvious pain in his leg, Hills charged Connor again. This time he made multiple jabs and swipes at him, aiming for anything and everything at this point. It was dark, making his preconstruction abilities unreliable, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own. Hunting humans was a lot easier than hunting deviants, and Connor was one of the best hunters out there. Sure, the DPD wanted Hills alive, but he wasn’t above killing the man if that knife truly became a problem.

Just as Connor made to pin Hills to a nearby crate and officially disarm him, he heard heavy bootsteps closing in on the staircase, signaling the DPD had finally caught up. The brief distraction, however, gave Hills the opening to bring the blade down at an angle across Connor’s right cheek. Multiple warning bells flashed across his vision, but he reacted before he could read any of them. He sharply grasped Hills wrist when he made to swing again and twisted it behind his back with so much force he felt it snap beneath his fingers. Ignoring his scream of agony, he slammed him down onto the ground, most likely breaking something pertinent in his face in the process. It took him only seconds to unlock the loose handcuff and lock it back around Hills’ other wrist, the metal clicking tight as soon as three officers, and Hank, rushed down the staircase.

**[Mission Successful]**

“Over here!”

“Connor!” Hank exclaimed, Connor standing to approach him once he was sure the officers had proper hold of Hills this time. “Christ, did you—fuck, you’re bleeding!”

“I’m alright, Hank,” Connor attempted to reassure him. He still allowed Hank to take his face in his hands and examine the shallow cut though. “It barely broke the skin and my chassis did not sustain any damage. Besides, I snapped his wrist in retaliation and I believe I broke his jaw.”

“Fucker deserves it. Now he can add attempted murder of an officer to his growing charges. Come on, let’s get back to the station and have you fixed up while I file our report.”

Connor took the offered tissue from Hank’s coat and wiped the trickling thirium off his face, only partially glaring at the Chicken Feed logo on the bottom, before following him and the other officers back out of the subway toward their cars. When they made it back to the station, Hank ushered him to go get patched up while he handled booking and filing the report. After attempting to argue with him for almost a full minute, Connor gave up with a huff and marched towards the back of the precinct.

One of the additives that’d been included to the precinct after the revolution, was an android tech. Since the android members of the force were going to be more involved in day-to-day patrols and criminal activity, they needed to take the proper precautions in case of a non-lethal emergency. Connor had only met the human tech—her name was Kimberly if he remembered correctly, which he always did—once at one of the department meetings, but she’d seemed nice with her fiery red-hair and can-do attitude. He wasn’t sure how she’d take having to fix something as miniscule as a knife cut, but he knew that if he didn’t at least try, Hank would drag him down there kicking and screaming anyway.

When he reached the technician’s office, he knocked twice and patiently waited. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a familiar red-head. “Connor! What brings—oh. Stupid question considering you’ve got a good gash across your face.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“Yeah, but we both know how Lieutenant Anderson gets about you. Come on in and I’ll fix you right up no problem.”

When she motioned to the table in the center of the small room, Connor obediently sat on top of the crinkling paper. It reminded him of a human doctor’s office; there were multiple cabinets and drawers labeled with a variety of android parts, a temperature-controlled storage unit holding multiple biocomponents for different androids, and a fridge that contained _a lot_ of thirium. “If you’re good, I’ll make you a thirium Caprisun to take with you.”

Connor whirled around, obviously caught staring at the blue-blood, before sheepishly smiling. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“’Course. Now, hold still while I fix that pretty face of yours.” As she tilted his head this way and that to properly see the damage, she let out a low whistle. “Man, Cyberlife really did go above and beyond to make the RK series beautiful, didn’t they? Unique.”

“They had multiple intentions for us. Humans seem to respond better to beauty, making them easier to manipulate.”

“And I’m assuming it’s also the reason they gave the RK series dicks?”

Connor’s face flushed, earning a soft chuckle from Kimberly. “The RK900 model was revamped after mine. Human social-interactions, Cyberlife learned, created a higher risk of deviation. So, to avoid any kind of connection that might compromise it, they took all risk factors out of the equation.”

“The penis tends to be the center of a man’s problems,” Kimberly teased. “Hold still for me, yeah? I don’t want to accidentally leave a scar on your chassis.”

He didn’t want to spoil the surprise that he already sported two on the palm of each of his hands. Like he’d predicted though, the process to fix the cut took less than five minutes, Kimberly waving him off with a freshly created thirium drink once they were finished. He had to admit he’d never had blue-blood through a straw before, but it made consumption that much easier. 

When he made his way back to the bullpen, he found Hank furiously typing at his terminal, obviously still angry about the Hills incident. Like before though, the second he saw Connor, his eyes lit up. “Hey! How are you feel—what the hell is that?”

“Kimberly calls it a thirium Caprisun. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I like it.”

Surprisingly, Hank chuckled. “It’s a juice packet that you shove a straw into. Cole loved the damn things despite the fact he always stabbed the stupid straw straight through the back of the packet.”

Hank was slowly getting better at mentioning his son without going into a spiral, the small stories always spreading warmth through Connor’s chassis. “Sounds sticky.”

“Totally was. Now, how is the face?”

“Fine,” Connor said, once again allowing Hank to grasp his chin and turn his head to look at the finished product. “It took her exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds to fix.”

“Yeah, well, makes me feel better knowing you got properly taken care of.”

“I know,” Connor whispered with a smile, “that’s why I went. Thank you, for being worried about me.”

“Doesn’t make me feel all that better knowing you were alone, dealing with a murderer who was trying to kill you with a knife,” he grumbled, risking a gentle stroke over the newly fixed flesh, before dropping his hand, “but I also know you always come out on top.”

“How is Mr. Hills’ wrist? And his face?” he asked, sipping at his packet again.

“Shattered. He’s headed to the hospital right now to get his arm casted and his jaw wired shut, before it is off to prison for him.”

“Did we learn anything about why he killed Hernandez?”

Hank sat back down before typing at his terminal again, Connor sitting at his usual spot on the corner of the desk in front of him. “We found multiple voicemails from Hills on Hernandez’ phone, all threats. Take this one, for example.”

When he clicked the play button, Hills’ voice bellowed from the screen. “_I want my money, Hernandez! I know you sold my last shipment, and if I can’t get my product back, I want my money. Don’t think I won’t find you; you can’t hide from the Snake!_”

“Street name, I’m assuming,” Connor mumbled, Hank nodding. “And I’m also assuming the shipment he’s referring to involves Red Ice.”

“Miller found evidence of it at Hills’ apartment, and Collins found some at Hernandez’s.”

“How is Collins doing?”

“Fine. He got an elbow to the nose, but he’s doing alright. Surprised him more than hurt him.”

“I’m just glad we have Hills back in custody.”

“All thanks to you, Con,” Hank complimented, Connor beaming back at him.

The next day, Markus had asked for Connor’s help with a—_situation_ at New Jericho. He didn’t go into too much detail so, after making sure Hank would be alright at the precinct by himself for the day—“_You’re a big boy, Con, you can do whatever you want without having to ask!_” Hank had responded. “_Just, you know, take care of yourself, yeah?_”— Connor headed over to the complex. New Jericho, despite having once been an abandoned industrial complex, had become a thing of beauty. The buildings had been stabilized from the inside out, painted, and given life once again. There were shrubbery, trees, flowers, benches, and a fountain at the center of it all, too. There were androids walking around, waving at others, some even walking their canine counterparts through the grass.

As beautiful as it was, Connor could still feel the eyes boring into him as he made his way towards Markus’ building. Though most had forgiven his past as a Deviant Hunter considering how significant his freeing the thousands at the Cyberlife tower had been, a lot still held resentment towards him. They didn’t trust that he’d truly deviated; instead they believed all of this was just a ruse and that one day he’d turn on them again. The fact he’d continued to work for the DPD and had chosen to move in with a human only raised their suspicions. It just made him all that more thankful Hank had agreed to take him into his home; he didn’t think he could ever feel comfortable in New Jericho, not even with Markus’ support.

When he reached the massive top floor office, where Markus conducted most of his work and held multiple meetings, and also lived, he knocked twice. Markus’ blond PL600 companion, Simon, was the one who opened the doors, relief instantly seeming to flood him. “Thank-you for coming on such short notice, Connor.”

“Of course,” Connor said before following Simon’s motion and slipping into the room. “What is going on?”

Simon began to lead him through the office towards a side room Connor remembered was used as their private meeting space. “An ST300 model named Melanie was found this morning after having been ambushed in the street. Thankfully, the attack was interrupted and we were able to bring her back here to get her fixed up, but she is shaken by the ordeal. She couldn’t tell us much of anything about her attacker, but we do know he attempted to mess with her internal wiring after bludgeoning her.”

Connor snapped his attention away from the doors. “Did you just say her wiring was tampered with?”

“Yes?”

“Something like this happened in a murder case the lieutenant and I investigated about a week ago. The perpetrator is still on the lose.”

Simon stared at him. “Do you believe this is related?”

“Never say never. Where is she?”

“In here. North and Markus have been trying to calm her all morning, but she refuses to call the police and make a report. So, we are hoping she will at least talk to you.”

“I will do what I can.”

When Simon opened the doors, Connor found Markus and his WR400 companion, North, standing around a tear-stained brunette android who was sitting in one of the chairs. All of them looked up the second they entered, Markus sighing in the same relief as Simon before turning back to Melanie. “Melanie, this is Connor. He works with the Detroit Police Department and I believe he can help you.”

Melanie’s eyes locked onto Connor before they filled with tears again. “He is the Deviant Hunter.”

“Who failed miserably at his job,” Connor attempted with a small smile. “Now, all I want to do is help any android who needs assistance. And, from what I have heard, you need that assistance. Is it true you were attacked?”

Melanie nervously glanced from Connor, to Markus, and back again before sniffling. “Yes. I work at the bakery on Gratiot Ave and—”

“I know that place!” Connor couldn’t help the interruption. “One of my friends, Trevor, works there and my partner gets donuts from your shop whenever he can.”

Her eyes seem to lighten at his recognition. “Are you Hank Anderson’s partner?”

Connor smiled with a nod. “I am.”

If possible, Melanie seemed to completely relax, probably at the knowledge that Connor’s intentions with the situation were pure. “I open with Trevor every morning at nine, but I was running late. I walk, rain or shine, so I was in a rush to try and get there to help him before opening. I didn’t even hear them come up behind me until I felt something blunt strike the back of my head.”

Connor made mental notes, multi-tasking so he could keep proper attention on the obviously traumatized android. “Were you knocked out?”

“I was in and out as my system tried to make the internal repairs, but I could feel myself being dragged. When my programming finally came fully back online, I was on my face in an alley,” she tried to explain, her voice seeming to go tight as the tears returned. North gripped her hand, softly ushering her to try and continue. “I couldn’t move, not at first, but I could _feel_ them messing with the panel at the back of my neck. I could see the errors, and when I saw they’d removed my firewall, I knew something was about to happen.”

This was exactly like what had happened with Lucy. “How did you escape?”

“A woman walking her dog scared them off. She was the one who helped me until Trevor showed up with Markus and they brought me here,” Melanie whispered.

“A technician on site was able to repair all the wiring that her attacker had damaged,” Markus added. “As well as the damage to her chassis from the blow to the back of the head.”

After finishing making notes, and attaching it to compare to the Lucy and Nina Banes case later, Connor slowly approached her. “May I take a look at the panel?”

Melanie, thankfully, nodded before turning her chair and allowing Connor access to the panel at the back of her neck. Connor scanned it first and, just like with Lucy’s, came back with no fingerprints. “Do you have any idea who could be behind this?” Simon asked as Connor opened the panel.

“We believe it’s an android.”

“Wait, something like this has happened before?” North gaped.

“An android and a human were both murdered after claims the android had attacked the human. We found evidence a third party was involved and that they’d tampered with Lucy’s firewall. No fingerprints were found though, and the bullets that killed both were too precise to be human.”

“There’s more though,” Markus realized with a squint. “What else did you find?”

Connor scanned Melanie’s internal wiring only to find the same tampering they’d found in Lucy’s. Once he gathered what evidence he could, he closed the panel and stepped back to give a proper explanation. “Considering older-year models like Melanie—no offense—have a physically connected firewall, it makes outside hacking near impossible. Once disconnected though—”

“It leaves them open for tampering,” Markus concluded. “But androids purposefully cannot hack into other androids. They aren’t programmed with—”

When his brows shot up, Connor knew he’d realized the connection. “The RK series can. Once that wire is disconnected, the RK series has the capability of messing with their entire system and there’s nothing their victim can do to stop it.”

“I don’t understand,” Simon finally spoke as he stepped closer to Markus, almost protectively. “I thought you, Markus, and the RK900 were the only models left alive in your series?”

“We are, I’ve checked the database multiple times over. So, either there’s an RK model out there that has gone unregistered, or an android exists that can do what we can.”

Markus ran a hand down his face. “This is—concerning.”

“Especially since they’ve upgraded from attacking an android in their own home, to doing it in broad daylight like this.” Connor pondered it briefly for a few seconds before shaking his head and turning back to Melanie. “I will file a report and do my best to bring whoever this is to justice. For now, please be sure you do not wander the streets alone. I know Trevor wouldn’t mind assisting you, especially if it meant you were safe.”

Melanie smiled before slowly standing. “Thank you, Connor. I appreciate all of your help.”

“Why don’t you head on home?” Markus coaxed. “North will escort you.”

With a small nod, North looped her arm around Melanie’s shoulders before leading her out of the room. Once they heard the main doors close behind them, Markus heaved out a sigh. “What is going on, Connor?”

“I don’t know. I’d hoped the dark-schemes would have stopped with Cyberlife’s detainment, but apparently I was wrong.”

The three of them stood in silence for a few moments before Markus seemed to shake it off. “I had other reasons for you coming here today.”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to update you on RK900.”

Connor frowned. “He hasn’t chosen a name for himself yet?”

“It doesn’t seem to be a priority for him. He has settled into New Jericho well, though mostly keeps to himself. We never divulged the information that he was your hunting predecessor, and I believe it was the best choice we could have made considering how some of our fellow androids still look at you.” Well, he wasn’t wrong, and his walk into New Jericho had proved it. “He came to me just last night though and stated that he has decided to take you and the lieutenant’s offer of joining the DPD. After spending the last week or so exploring possible hobbies and job opportunities, he feels his place is in his programming. And that means taking down bad guys.”

Connor couldn’t help his smile. “I’d hoped he’d want to join us. All the paperwork is ready and waiting for him, as well as a partner who will show him the ropes. He just needs to come down and register with Fowler before he can start.”

“I will let him know. Thank you, Connor. You’ve been a huge help to not only me, but New Jericho as well.”

“I am glad I could assist. If you no longer need me, I believe I should be returning to the DPD.”

“Of course. I will walk you out.”

When they reached the hallway, however, Markus quickly shut the office doors behind them. Connor glanced from the closed doors, to the abandoned hallway, back to Markus in confusion. “Is everything alright, Markus?”

The Jericho leader, surprisingly, fidgeted for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course.”

“How did you know that you—that you were in love with Lieutenant Anderson? Not just that you cared about him, but that you were truly, undeniably, in love with him?”

Connor barely had to ponder the question. “The second Hank realized what Cyberlife was truly using me for, he protected me. He was the one who had me questioning my programming, had me starting to believe that deviants weren’t dangerous abominations. Before I knew it, my protocols had gone from obeying Cyberlife, to doing whatever it took to stay with Hank. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, not until the day I went to Cyberlife Tower and my RK800 twin held a gun to Hank’s head. It was in that moment I realized that a world where Hank didn’t exist, wasn’t a world I wanted to live in, and that—if he’d let me—I wanted to spend the rest of my existence protecting him the same way he’d protected me. And kissing him. _Definitely_ kissing him.”

“And, even after living with him, spending time with him, you haven’t had any doubts about your choice?”

“No. Sure, we have squabbles, we argue about ridiculous things, but we always compromise a solution to everything. It’s not perfect, no relationship is, but we are happy. We take care of each other, always tell each other we love each other, and I wouldn’t want anything more,” he answered easily. When Markus went quiet, obviously pondering, Connor tipped his head to catch those mismatched eyes. “What is this about, Markus?”

Markus took a breath before his shoulders dropped. “I love North, don’t misunderstand me, but I do not believe I am _in love_ with her. I’m not sure I ever was. These last few weeks have had me travelling back and forth to Washington, North keeping busy with setting up android homing and travel with Josh and Simon, but during that time apart I’ve realized that I—that it’s not _her_ company I have missed. It’s not her that I’ve craved in my absences from New Jericho.”

“I live with Hank, yet coming here without him I already feel his absence, and it’s barely been two hours,” Connor explained a little softer this time. “I believe you already know where your heart lies, Markus. Now you just need to follow it, no matter how hard it might end up being. You were one of the people who taught me that.”

“I know. Thank you, Connor. I will be sure we keep a close eye on Melanie, and I will inform RK900 to meet Fowler as soon as possible.”

“And I will update you with anything else we find on this rogue android.”

With a final farewell, Connor made his way back to the autonomous taxi he’d arrived in, and returned to the precinct. If he stopped by to pick lunch up for Hank on the way, and if it wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world well—maybe he’d let Hank slide with two cheat days that week.

It turned out to be the right decision when he showed up to the bullpen carrying the grease-soaked bag and a large soda. Hank instantly groaned happily as he sunk into his chair. “Oh my fucking God, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Connor said with a wink as he set everything down on his desk. “Have I missed anything exciting?”

“Only paperwork. We also teased Collins for almost a full hour when he came in with a purple and black face. Turns out Hills really got him good,” Hank explained as he unwrapped his burger and bit into it with a happy sigh. “So, what did Robo-Jesus want?”

“Do you remember the Lucy and Nina Banes case?” Hank nodded, cheeks full. “There was another incident with a New Jericho resident where she was attacked and her wiring had been tampered with. Just like before, she was an older model and they’d attempted to take down her firewall. It’s actually someone I believe you know, works with Trevor at the bakery.”

“Shit, Melanie? Is she alright?”

“Thankfully, the attack was interrupted why a woman and her dog walking by. Markus and the others were immediately called to escort her back home, and that’s when I was called in.”

“You took notes and everything, right? We will need to do heavy comparisons to Lucy and Melanie, see if there is even a small connection somewhere.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Connor agreed, grinning as Hank took another massive hunk out of his burger. God, he loved this messy, beastly, adorable, gentle human. Which reminded him. “Markus also had other things to speak with me about.”

“Like what?”

“Apparently our RK900 friend has decided to take up our offer on joining the force.”

Hank perked up, sharply swallowing his bite. “Yeah? That’s awesome! With him joining Reed in the homicide department, we will have two badass androids kicking ass around town.”

“Do you think he will survive being Detective Reed’s partner?”

“You got the super-sweet puppy face with human integration skills and everything, right? They took all of that out of the RK900, leaving behind a killing machine with no social skills. If anyone can handle Reed’s android hating bullshit, it’s that guy. Besides,” Hank sipped from his drink, “Gavin is the asshole version of a social butterfly around here. Who knows, he might even be able to show RK900 what it’s like to be a little bit human.”

Connor nodded, pondering the thought for a few seconds. “They’re totally going to end up hate-fucking, aren’t they?”

Hank choked, soda spraying out of his nose despite the hand desperately attempting to keep it from getting everywhere. Connor smirked triumphantly as he grabbed the stack of napkins from the bag and handed them over; looked like researching different kinks and sexual innuendos the other night had paid off. “I am banning you from the internet,” Hank grunted, blowing his nose into the napkin before wiping his beard. “Fucking Christ, Connor.”

“Moving on from the subject of my RK brother and Detective Reed’s future sexcapades,” Connor pressed on, grinning at Hank’s glare, “Markus asked me for relationship advice.”

“Trouble in paradise for him and that Tomb Raider girlfriend of his?”

Connor took a brief look around the room, making sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers around their desk, before leaning a little closer. “He asked me how I knew I truly loved you, and if I’ve regretted even a second of staying with you.”

The lieutenant’s cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat, scratching at his beard almost nervously; again, Hank was wonderful at expressing how much he loved someone, but when it came to hearing it about himself, he still struggled. “And—uh—what did you say?”

“That I wanted to spend the rest of my existence protecting you, kissing you, being happy with you. Not a day goes by where I regret choosing you, and I am so thankful that you took a chance on me.”

Hank stared at him, eyes searching his for a long time, before he heaved out a soft chuckle. “I want to kiss you so damn bad right now.”

“Have to be professional, lieutenant,” Connor teased as he sat upright again. “I really do love you, Hank.”

“I love you too, Con.”

They hit the market a few blocks away before returning home. They’d left work later than normal—thankfully Mrs. Hampshire came to Sumo’s rescue—but needed a few necessities for tomorrow first. Connor, who always had an updated list of needed groceries, insisted they were not only low on milk, laundry detergent, and eggs, but that they were severely low on coffee. That was all Hank needed to hear before he pulled into the parking lot. Connor and Hank almost always did the shopping together. Hank refused to let Connor go alone—“_there is no way in hell I’m letting you fucking shop for me when you don’t even eat any of it_”—but considering he sucked at remembering what exactly they needed, they compromised by making it a team effort instead.

“What healthy bullshit are you going to torture me with tonight?”

Connor didn’t even bother rolling his eyes as he glanced over the produce; Hank almost always liked what Connor cooked. The first time he’d offered to make Hank dinner, both of them had actually been a little nervous. Connor was a hunting machine, had never been programmed for domestic work, and had never once set foot near a stove. But, the baked ziti had actually turned out quite good. And edible, as Hank liked to jest. Fish, however, was something he was still trying to get Hank to enjoy. It was a fight, but one he eventually intended to win.

“I was thinking about stuffed peppers,” he said as he picked a red bell pepper up. “I spoiled you with a greasy lunch, so now it’s back to the healthy stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to grab the eggs and milk. You good here?”

“I’ll be behind you shortly.”

He watched until Hank, and the cart, disappeared around the corner before he began to pick through the peppers again, tucking the best ones against his chest. When he turned to find a produce bag, however, he found himself face to face with a pair of angry brown eyes. It took him a few seconds before he realized those eyes belonged to a larger man with pale skin and blond hair. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Connor briefly frowned at the peppers in his arm. “Picking peppers for dinner.”

“Androids don’t eat,” the man sniffed. “This for your human?”

The disgust laced in his tone instantly set Connor’s teeth on edge. So, this was going to be one of _those_ encounters. And, judging by the fact the market was nearly abandoned so late at night, he wasn’t going to be censoring anything, either. “That, sir, is none of your business.”

When he made to move around him, however, the man shoved him back with a flat hand to his sternum. Stupidly, Connor allowed himself to be pushed back. “What kind of wool you pull over their eyes, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, plastic. You livin’ in their house, they buyin’ your clothes and shit. What things you say to the poor sap to bend over like that? You love ‘em?” The man’s face pinched as he said the word. Connor was more offended by the fact he assumed Hank bought him everything. Sure, his first few outfits were a gift from Hank, but the black jeans and button down he was currently wearing were bought with his first paycheck. God, humans could be so narrow minded, especially to have this ridiculous fight in the middle of a grocery store. “You emotionless pricks ain’t capable of it, don’t care what the revolution said. You lot talk more with that fake shit between your legs, knowing you’ll get whatever you want with a quick fuck.”

“I am leaving now,” Connor announced before shouldering passed the larger man. 

The second genitals are brought up in any argument, he takes that as his que its has gone far enough. Besides, he did not have the energy to remind the man that not all androids possessed them. Just as he began to search for Hank, produce bag long forgotten, he was shoved hard from behind. The surprise force had him stumbling, his hip knocking painfully against one of the produce stands before he hit the ground with a thump. He desperately tried to protect the peppers, but he felt at least one of them smash beneath his weight, the juice already soaking into his white shirt. What the hell was it with people and his poor button-ups?

“Connor!”

Connor glanced up to find Hank rushing towards him, the sound of the angered shopper approaching from behind him loud in his auditory system. This was not going to end well. Sure enough, the second Hank reached him, he spotted the man and instantly put two and two together. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“So, this is the poor sap you screwed out of house and home!”

When Hank’s eyes narrowed, Connor scrambled back to his feet and gripped his arm. Hank was very much the type to fight for your honor and that was the last thing they needed to happen right now. They were both officers of the DPD and punching a pedestrian was not the kind of publicity the department needed right now. Well-deserved or not. “Hank, let’s go. This asshole isn’t worth the fight.”

“What the hell did you just call me?” the man snarled.

“An asshole,” Connor repeated with a glare, before turning pleading eyes back on Hank. “Please. Let’s go.”

For one horrifying second, Connor feared Hank was going to ignore him and sock the man in the face. Thankfully, he eventually felt Hank grasp his elbow before steering him sharply back to wherever he’d abandoned their cart. The man, blessedly, didn’t attempt to follow—obviously not as brave when humans were present—but didn’t hold back the multiple curses and slurs he shouted after them.

After finally grabbing the cart and making it up to the checkout counter, the asshole nowhere in sight, Connor squeezed Hank’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“For not punching him in the face.” Connor smiled. “You would have definitely knocked him into a coma for me, but I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still considering it, so don’t start thanking me yet,” he said just as the cashier began to ring up their items.

Things were quiet as they made it back out to the car, Connor picking a few pepper seeds off of his shirt on the way. As soon as they slid inside, however, Hank turned to face him. “I don’t know what that guy said to you, but I—you’re ok, right?”

“I’m fine, Hank. This isn’t the first time I’ve been called unflattering names, and unfortunately it won’t be the last.”

Hank, however, didn’t look comforted by the answer. “I kind of get the gist of what he was accusing you of, but I need you to know that I genuinely love you and that I know you aren’t manipulating me out of shit. I trust you with more than just my life and—sorry. I just don’t want you thinking that kind of bullshit could ever happen.”

Connor couldn’t help his fond smile as he cradled Hank’s hand with both of his. “We both know I am capable of human manipulation, but I have never once had the urge to use that with you. Even back when I started questioning my programming, when I feared I was beginning to deviate, I couldn’t hide anything from you. Instead, I told you the truth, and it was the best decision of my life because you have never once made me regret that choice.” He brought Hank’s hand up to kiss his palm before returning it to his lap. “There will always be humans who despise me because of what I am, and there will always be androids who hate me for what I was created to do, but I know there will never come a day where that will be you. Like I told you earlier at the precinct: I love you, I know you love me, and that’s all that I care about. Everyone else can fuck off.”

Hank heaved out a soft laugh before using Connor’s grip on his to pull him into a kiss, his free hand warmly cupping his face. “That’s all I care about, too.”

“Good,” Connor agreed, giving him one last peck, before settling properly in is seat. “Now, let’s go home so I can try and salvage dinner.”

“Aye-aye, cap.”

RK900 showed up to the precinct a few days after Connor’s visit to New Jericho, Connor immediately meeting him out in the lobby the second Penny notified him of his arrival. Sure enough, when he stepped back through the security doors, he found the taller RK standing patiently by the main desk. “Hello, RK900.”

“Hello, Connor. Markus told me you would be expecting me this morning.”

“Thank you for coming. Let me first congratulate you on finally choosing your career; we here at the DPD will benefit greatly from your skillset.”

“I want—“Connor patiently let him find his words as he watched the RK’s brows knit together, “—I am a hunter, that is all I’ve known despite never having experienced the world for what it is, but I wish to be more than my intended use. I want to use my programming to help protect people and I only wish to bring androids and humans to justice if warranted, not just because they want to be free. Does that—does that make sense?”

Connor offered a smile as he nodded. “I struggled with the same thoughts and feelings, so I understand better than most. Whereas I needed a push to see how wrong Cyberlife was, I am proud you were able to find those answers on your own.”

RK900’s shoulders seemed to relax, if only slightly. “Thank you.”

“Now, if you’ll follow me, I will take you to Captain Fowler’s office,” Connor said with a motion of his head before beginning to lead him through the security gate and into the bullpen. “He will inform you of your duties, have you sign a massive packet of paperwork, and then from there you will be introduced to your partner.”

“Detective Gavin Reed.”

“Yes. He has the tendency to be—_extreme_, and doesn’t have the best opinions about androids, but I believe if anyone has the capabilities to handle him, it is you.”

“I have never been afraid of a challenge.”

“He will be your biggest one,” Connor sighed before making his way up the steps and pulling Fowler’s office open. “Captain? RK900 is here to complete the necessary paperwork and pledges, like you’d requested.”

“Finally. Get in here,” Captain snapped with no real heat as he slammed a large stack of papers onto his desk. “Hope your hands don’t cramp easy, because you and I will be here awhile.”

When RK900’s eyes dragged from the obnoxious packet back to Connor, Connor shot him two thumbs up. “You’ve got this!”

With a small nod, RK900 straightened his shoulders and marched inside. “Where do we begin?”

Once Connor was sure he was properly settled in for the long haul, he returned to his desk to find Hank watching the captain and the RK curiously from his chair. “Gavin still out on that battery case?”

“Yup.”

“Does he know he’s getting a partner yet?”

“Nope.”

“Once that paperwork is complete and he swears in, will he find out?”

“Yup.”

Hank turned to face him with a look of pure glee. “Think we could order in lunch today? I _do not_ want to miss one second of that introduction.”

Connor shot him a flat look. “You are terrible.”

“Can you blame me? If you thought my reaction to getting an android partner was bad, you have no idea what’s coming.”

“Will—”

“RK900 will be fine. Fowler, however…”he shook his head.

“Wait, what did you do when you found out I was going to be your partner?”

Hank glanced back at Fowler’s office before squinting through the glass. “Alright, you see where he’s got those American and Michigan Flag stands behind his desk? Let’s just say, they are very heavy and that television screen across the room wasn’t always that small.”

Didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. “Oh, Hank…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Intended to get shitfaced at Jimmy’s but got distracted by the game, and then this pretty little android showed up looking for me. Even bought me a drink as a peace offering.”

Connor couldn’t bite back his smile. “Best money I ever spent.”

Suddenly a message flickered across his vision, his right eye twitching. “No, no, no, I know what that damn eye twitch means!”

“Looks like you might have to miss the show,” Connor said in sympathy. He really didn’t want to leave RK900 to deal with Gavin for the first time on his own, but now it didn’t look like he had a choice. “Duty calls, lieutenant. Collins is waiting for us at the scene of what appears to be a murder-suicide.”

“Dammit,” Hank groaned, giving one last forlorn glance at Fowler’s office, before standing. “What are we looking at? Human? Android?”

“Looks like two androids, a VB800 and a female AP700. They’ve only just started processing the scene though, so we won’t be able to gather further information until we get there.”

“Welp, lead the way.”

The apartment complex was already surrounded by crime scene tape by the time they pulled up, and when they reached the third floor, they found Collins already waiting for them. Connor, who hadn’t seen the aftermath of Hills’ escape attempt two days prior, immediately gaped at the sight: Hank hadn’t been lying when he said Collins’ entire face was purple. The bruising from his busted nose had spread up around his eyes, making him look more racoon than human. “Ben!” Connor squeaked. “How are you able to see right now?”

“I’m alright. Doctors say the swelling will go down in a couple of days,” Collins attempted to say, though the swelling in his nose made his voice nasally. It made his glare towards Hank look like that of a put-off toddler, too. “At least someone is genuinely concerned about me around here.”

“He’s part android-nanny, he can’t help it,” Hank teased as he clapped an affronted Connor on the shoulder. “Jokes aside, what have you got for us?”

“911 call came in approximately forty-five minutes ago claiming their neighbors were having what sounded like a violent argument. Eight minutes later, a follow-up 911 call came in from the same person claiming they’d heard a gunshot,” Collins explained, nose buried in his tablet as he led them towards where crime scene analysts were already setting to work. He must have forgotten his glasses again. That, or they were too painful to wear. “Responding parties upped their arrival time, and when they received no answer at the alleged apartment, they broke the door in. That’s when they found two deceased androids lying inside.”

When they stepped fully into the apartment, Connor immediately noticed the blonde AP700 lying in the middle of the splintered remains of a coffee table. Her right arm was bend in the completely wrong direction, there were tears in the synthetic skin around her biceps, and it was clear her neck had been crushed. Sitting against the shattered monitor and television stand was the VB800, a single bullet wound through his forehead but this time the gun was still clutched in his hand.

“Female identified as Stephanie and the VB800 identified as Henry. Miller already checked the gun and found it’s been registered to one Doug Cruz, the AP700’s old owner. When we called him, he stated he gave the gun to Stephanie for protection, at least until the backlash from the revolution wore out. He was all the way across town at work when the murder happened, so he’s been cleared. From what I can tell, this looks like a clear murder-suicide situation, but that’s what I have you two for,” Collins teased. “We have yet to interview the neighbor who’d called 911, so if one of you wished to join me…”

Hank rolled his eyes when Collins began to slowly waltz towards said door. “Alright, alright, I’m coming. Think you can handle things ‘till I get back?”

Connor tore his attention away from Henry before nodding. “I think I will manage. Scream if you need me.”

“Smartass android,” Hank chuckled. “Be right back.”

Once Hank and Collins disappeared through the door, Connor set to work, beginning with Henry. There wasn’t much to analyze on Henry; there was clear gunshot residue on the hand that was still clutching the gun, black power burned into synthetic flesh where he’d pressed the muzzle to his forehead and pulled the trigger, and a splattering of thirium across his chest. He dipped his fingers through the blue blood before pressing it to his tongue. His analyzer immediately came back as a match for the AP700. When he moved on to attempt a reconstruction of Henry’s final steps, an error sharply flashed across his vision. He flinched briefly at the static before shaking it off; the bullet to his memory core must be interfering with the feed.

So, he turned his attention to Stephanie next. After a quick analysis, he was able to confirm that her right arm had been snapped at the elbow where multiple wires and tubes were now exposed, her chassis had suffered multiple deep abrasions along the biceps, and her trachea and voice box had been completely crushed in. If that hadn’t killed her, the thirium that’d begun to rapidly flow from her destroyed arm and the broken tubes in her spine would have. Since Stephanie’s memory core was still intact, and would not have any possible interference, Connor was easily able to reconstruct what had happened.

It appeared to have started when Stephanie entered the apartment. She’d set her purse down, but as she made her way through the living room into the kitchen, Henry seemed to pop out from the hallway where he almost instantly lunged at her. Stephanie tried to run, only for Henry to grasp her right arm. When she struggled, he forced the arm behind her back, causing the break at the elbow. What surprised Connor though was the way Henry instantly let go and allowed Stephanie to break free, the release lasting a few seconds, before he pursued her again, this time squeezing both hands around her throat until she went completely limp in his grasp, her body shattering the coffee table once he finally released her corpse. Was this all about the chase for him? If so, why not at least try to escape after killing her? Why go through all of this just to kill yourself?

**[Mission:**  
**Find Why Henry Snapped]**

Realizing he’d hit a dead-end here, Connor made his way down the hallway where Henry had come from before attacking Stephanie. There were only two other rooms in the apartment: a full-bathroom and a single bedroom. The bathroom seemed mostly untouched, a single loofa and a bottle of bodywash the only amenities. As he moved into the bedroom, it appeared to be well lived in. Clothes filled the closet and dresser, the sheets were rumpled like Henry had simply woken from stasis and waltzed out to meet Stephanie. Nothing raised Connor’s suspicions let alone explained why Henry decided Stephanie needed to die.

When Connor made to return to the bodies, however, is when he noticed the curtains billowing over the single bedroom window. Sure enough, when he drew them aside, he found it wide-open. Which was odd for the middle of the Detroit Winter, especially for androids who could easily control their own body temperatures. It was as he peered out over the sill towards the ground below that he noticed the dents in the drainage pipe screwed into the apartment wall. As he followed it all the way down to where it ended in the back alley, he could just make out footprints in the snow. His thirium pump skipped at the sight; unless one of the victims had climbed in through this window—which was highly unlikely, 99.9% to be exact—this meant there had been a third party involved in this crime. 

Just like with Lucy and Nina.

**[Mission: Complete]**

Connor nearly sprinted back into the living room before crouching down by Henry’s body. This time he examined every miniscule detail, every possible scrape and bruise. When he noticed that Henry’s right sleeve had been unbuttoned, the left still secure around his wrist, he slowly lifted the fabric up his forearm. Just as he reached his elbow, Connor noticed five finger shaped marks lightly bruised into his synthetic skin. Sure enough, when he retracted the synthetic flesh, he found the same marks embedded into his chassis. This was an interface, a forced interface, but an interface none the less. If this case was truly related to Lucy, Nina, and Melanie’s cases, then their RK suspect had upgraded from manual integration to wireless. And this time, unlike the failed attempts with Lucy and Melanie, they’d succeeded in forcing their victim to kill in cold blood.

“Lieutenant!” Connor shouted as he quickly made his way out into the hallway. “Lieutenant Anderson!”

Hank’s head popped out of the apartment on the right. “Connor? Everything alright?”

“This case is related to our tampering cases!”

“How? Lucy and Melanie are both older model androids.”

“Which the RK failed at successfully hacking into, remember? Manual hacking takes too long, leaves the process open to too many outside influences. So, they changed tactics and moved on to wireless integration, this time on a more vulnerable victim. Henry had been asleep when the RK entered the apartment. The bruises I found on his arm proved a forced interface occurred, and I believe it’s highly plausible he caused Henry to go into a frenzy.”

“A frenzy? What is that?”

“It’s essentially like a steroid induced virus. It shuts all major systems down like auditory, the memory core, the programming that allows us to decipher right from wrong. All cautions, all memories, all common sense, are taken out of play and all that’s left behind is this angry, blood-thirsty, killing machine.”

“Who the hell came up with a virus like that?” Hank growled. At Connor’s wince, it turned into a full-blown snarl. “Those fucking pricks.”

“If we couldn’t break a deviant, we were given other—_options_ of exposing them for what they were. Integrating a virus into their systems not only gave us a reason to destroy the android, but it set an example to the world that deviants truly were dangerous,” Connor explained quietly. Just another way Cyberlife made him dangerous and another reason his kind absolutely loathed him. “If it helps, I’ve never actually used it.”

Hank breathed out a deep sigh before squeezing the juncture between Connor’s neck and shoulder. “Hey, it just surprised me is all. We’re ok, I promise.”

Connor gripped Hank’s fingers tightly as he took a small breath, Collins presence be damned; he hadn’t been lying when he’d told the RK900 that he’d understood the feeling of being afraid of what they were. Of what they could do. It always helped when Hank reassured him that he could never be afraid of Connor. “Do you have any proof this virus was transferred to the VB800?” Collins gently interrupted the moment.

“I can only prove it in theory right now,” Connor answered, giving Hank’s hand one last squeeze before they separated. “I won’t be able to prove anything until we can physically examine his internal programming and see what was tampered with, but there was evidence in the reconstruction I did of the attack.”

“How so?”

“After Henry snapped Stephanie’s arm, there was a moment of hesitation where he’d allowed her to escape. It only lasted a few seconds, but it almost seemed like he’d broken through the virus, had briefly realized what he’d done, and _who_ he’d done it too. The virus is too strong for anyone to completely disrupt once successfully uploaded though. Not on their own, anyway. Once it took back control, he ultimately killed Stephanie.”

“Explains why he killed himself, too,” Hank pondered, eyes glued to the taped off doorway of the apartment. “If this RK has nearly perfected this damn thing, it means there are still some glitches. Say the virus runs out of juice after blood is spilt. Wasn’t intended to happen, but this seems like research more than anything. Once he’s free, Henry sees Stephanie, dead, realizes he’s done it and can’t live with the fact he’s killed the woman he loved, let alone might kill someone else.” 

“So, he kills himself.” Collins nodded his agreement. “Makes sense.”

“This is dangerous, Hank. This RK has successfully interfaced with an android and spread a virus into its system that caused it to commit murder. It won’t take long for them to perfect it, and once that happens—I honestly don’t want to think about the consequences.”

Connor could see the wheels turning behind Hank’s eyes. “Ben, think you can get the coroner here ASAP? The sooner we are able to examine Henry, the better.”

“I’ll work on it,” Collins nodded before pulling his phone from his jacket and jabbing the screen.

He walked back down the hallway, away from the analysts’ noise most likely. “What are we going to do?” Connor asked once Hank turned back to face him.

“Right now, we are going to go back to the precinct. Then, we are going to put these cases together and pick through them with a fine-tooth comb to make sure we haven’t missed anything critical. After that, we will set to the streets and ask the android community if they’ve heard any suspicious rumors about another deviant hunter roaming around.”

“Ok.” Connor took a breath. As dire as this situation was, they were no closer to identifying the mysterious RK that was behind all of this. Maybe, if they went back to the beginning, they could find something they’d missed. “Ok, let’s do it.”

Their determination was sharply cut short the second they walked through the DPD doors and into the bullpen. “Anderson, you son of a bitch!”

Connor saw the blur of something black and instinctively raised his hand, his fingers snatching what looked like a stapler out of the air before it could bounce off of Hank. Hank, however, didn’t seem phased as he heaved out a sigh and shot a glare at where Reed was obviously fuming from his desk. “What is it now, Reed?”

They both knew what, and judging by the new fat lip Reed was sporting, the introduction between him and RK900 hadn’t gone all that well. RK900 didn’t seem all that bothered where he was sitting at the once-empty terminal next to Reed’s desk though. “I know you and your plastic pet had everything to do with this!”

“I’m afraid you are going to have to explain, Detective Reed,” Connor answered as he set the stapler down onto Miller’s desk.

Reed wildly waved his hands at RK900 who raised an uninterested brow at him. “_This_ is what I am talking about! You brought this prick in here, now you get to be the ones who get him out!”

Connor blatantly ignored Reed, leaving Hank to deal with the tantrum, as he approached his RK brother. “Hello, RK900. How was your meeting with Fowler?”

“Productive. We went through the background process, I signed a multitude of papers reviewing polices and laws, they registered my model number for identification, and we went over what programming Cyberlife gave me that coincided with DPD protocols. Once the captain was assured I was fit for service, he set my probation period for one month and then I was introduced to my partner.” When the RK900 glanced over to where Reed was still fuming at a very bored looking Hank, he grunted. “It went as well as you had predicted. There was yelling, Captain Fowler informed him he didn’t have a say in the matter, that maybe this partner would actually stay with him, and then dismissed the both of us. I was assigned this desk, which seemed to only agitate the detective further. I’d barely sat down to work on our first assigned case when he started demanding coffee from me.”

Connor winced, his fingers subconsciously pressing against his stomach. “It seems to be his first reaction whenever he comes into contact with an android.”

“I politely informed him he could get coffee on his own, there were multiple derogatory slurs in response, and when the detective decided to try and add physical reinforcement to his demand, well—you have seen the aftermath.”

“Detective Reed needs to understand that we are here for policework, not servantry. I had hoped that his recent positive behavior towards our kind was a bit more permanent, but apparently he still has a long way to go,” he concurred with a small frown. “If it becomes too much, do not hesitate to approach Captain Fowler and ask for a replacement. He may not grant it to Reed, but he will grant it to you.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I will be able to handle the detective.” When the RK900 once again glanced over to where Reed was—in no other terms—now pouting in the break room, his ice blue eyes seemed almost fond. Maybe there was hope for this after all. “But I wouldn’t mind any tips you have to offer. I know Lieutenant Anderson wasn’t quite as hostile towards you when you first met, but I do know he once hated our kind as much as the detective. How did you handle it?”

“Stubborn determination and sarcastic-wit. I learned that, if you can make the lieutenant laugh, he’s quicker to warm up to you,” Connor teased. “As for Detective Reed, I’ve come to notice he takes to compliments. He may fight them with curses and brush it off, but he appreciates the praise. Work at it long enough and I believe he will warm up to you just like Hank warmed up to me.”

He _may_ have had a ten-dollar bet with Hank about this partnership turning into something more, but that was neither here nor there. RK900 seemed to make mental note of the advice before nodding. “I will try it. Thank you, Connor.”

“Of course. If you need any further help or advice, I am available whenever you need me. Lieutenant Anderson as well.”

With that he left him to his own devices and returned to his desk. “How’s he doing?” Hank asked as he sat down. “Hope Reed didn’t traumatize him.”

“RK900 is fine. If anything, he wants to make this partnership work and has no intentions of abandoning the detective anytime soon.”

“That’s exactly what Gavin needs. Is he an asshole? Of course he is. Is he a pain in the ass to work with? Yes. Is he a bad person? Hell no. That man just has walls built a mile high to protect himself, but nobody has had the patience or grit to climb ‘em,” Hank explained as he scratched at his beard. “Like me, he’s only got a bad taste for androids because of his personal trauma with them. Maybe, if he spends time with one like I did, he’ll see they really aren’t that bad. And, if that brother model of yours really has skin as hard as a rock, he might just be the one who changes his mind. Gavin deserves to finally have someone in his life willing to look out for him, and it’s high time he left that damn prejudice-against-androids of his behind.”

Connor glanced from Hank, over to where Reed was still glaring into his coffee cup in the break room, and back again. “Were you and Reed ever close?”

Surprisingly, Hank let out a self-deprecating sigh as he dragged both hands down his face. “When Reed first came to the DPD, he was the typical young and dumb officer. Had these dreams of making his way up to lieutenant though, and I admired the determination. So, I kind of took him under my wing. I was one of the first people he came to when he found out he was being promoted to detective, you know? But then…”

When he hesitated, his eyes dropping to his lap, Connor instantly put the pieces together. “Then the accident happened.”

“Gavin tried to help me, wanted to be there to support me like I did him, but I was already in this spiral. I pushed everyone away; I screamed, I shouted, I gave everyone the cold shoulder. Poor kid came to my house one night and I slammed the door in his face.” Hank took a breath, seeming to try and regain his composure. “Our relationship soured quick, not that I blame him. All he wanted was to help, and I kicked the kid out on his ass. Abandoned him when for the longest time I was one of the only ones in his life who supported him. After that—well, you can see what kind of person he’s turned into.”

“It’s not your fault, Hank.”

“Part of it is. I wasn’t lying that night I told you you’d brought the life back into me. I was a nightmare to be around for a long time, Connor, and now Gavin has followed in my footsteps. I mean, he punched you when you refused to serve him coffee for Christ sakes, and he just tried the same bullshit with RK900!”

Connor frowned as he watched Hank’s jaw clench and his nose flare, his fists knuckle white where they rested against his knees. It pained him to see Hank like this and, considering they were currently in the middle of the bullpen, it pained him more that there was nothing he could do to comfort him.

Unless.

“Lieutenant,” Connor announced as he sharply stood, “I need your assistance. Will you please follow me?”

Hank frowned, probably at the sudden change of subject, before slowly nodding. “Uh, sure, Con.”

Connor immediately began to march his way towards the back of the precinct, Hank’s heavy steps following hesitantly behind. When he approached the door to the interrogation observation room, he pulled it open and motioned Hank inside. “This way, please.”

“What are we doing?” Hank questioned though obediently entered the room, Connor joining him. “You get a suspect I don’t know—”

The second the door shut behind them, he twisted the handle lock before sharply pulling Hank into a tight hug, even going up onto his tippy-toes to gather the man properly in his arms. Hank instantly sank into the contact as his arms wrapped around Connor’s middle and he buried his face into his neck. They stood silently like that for a long time, Hank’s breathing soft and steady against his skin. “It’s going to be ok, Hank.”

“I know, I just…”he retracted far enough so they were face to face. “Reed doesn’t deserve to be miserable just because an old man pushed him away.”

“Reed is an asshole because he purposefully chooses to be. Plenty of people go through similar situations as him and still manage to be pleasant,” he enlightened him with a snort. “Does he maybe need some practice in being a good person on the outside? Yes. Could he stand to get his ass kicked a few more times to get that ego of his deflated a bit? Definitely yes. But he’s not a lost cause. Maybe he doesn’t just need RK900. Maybe he needs all of us to give him a little guidance.”

Hank sighed, pressing their foreheads together. “I knew that expensive ass brain of yours was good for something.”

“My expensive ass brain is wonderful, thank you very much.”

That got a bark of a laughter out of him, Connor grinning. “Smartass android.”

Connor finally closed the distance between them again, pressing his lips to Hank’s for a few wonderfully long seconds, before pulling away. “I love you, Hank.”

“I love you too, Connor.” They stayed like that for another five minutes, just taking a moment to soak each other in, especially considering the chaotic day they’d had so far. Eventually, Hank pulled away with one last chaste kiss to his LED. “Alright, come on. We’ve got an RK imposter to find.”

They picked through every single case related to their supposed RK attacker, detail by detail. They were able to put together exactly what had happened with Lucy and Nina Banes: the RK was able to integrate the virus into Lucy, but considering this seemed to be their first successful integration, the virus was weak. So weak that Lucy, while she was strangling Nina, broke free of it. The RK, who must have been watching nearby, must have realized the virus had failed and killed both women in response. After spending a week trying to strengthen the frenzy, they’d then attempted to test it out on Melanie. Which they might have succeeded at if the old woman and her dog hadn’t interrupted the integration. Neither Connor nor Hank were sure why he decided manual integration was a failed angle and went to wireless, but whatever it was, the switch was the last puzzle piece the RK imposter needed. Because, after he gave the virus to his next victim, it resulted in the murder-suicide of Stephanie and Henry.

As for who exactly this RK was, they were still completely clueless.

By the time seven o’clock came around, Hank officially called it a night for the both of them. “We’ll get fresh eyes and come back to it tomorrow morning. Right now, we have a hungry beast at home we need to feed.”

Sure enough, the second they walked into the house, Sumo instantly began to herd them into the kitchen. “You’re a rescue dog, dammit!” Hank argued with the insistent boofs that followed him through the living room. “Not a herding dog!”

While Hank fed the obviously-starving Sumo, Connor set to cooking something for dinner. It was late, so he decided to make something easy. After boiling the noodles, cutting up leftover chicken breast, and warming up pasta sauce, he served Hank up a plate and joined him at the kitchen table. “I was thinking of going to New Jericho tomorrow and updating Markus on what we’ve found out.”

“Mind if I come with you this time?” Hank questioned before taking a large bite of pasta. “I haven’t actually seen the android safe-haven in person before, and I wouldn’t mind a tour.”

Connor beamed at him; he never thought Hank would care to see New Jericho, but hearing him say it himself was exciting. He immediately sent a message to Markus, asking if he had time to meet with Connor _and_ Hank so he could update him on everything that’d happened today. “I know Markus will love to see you again, and you’ve never met Simon, Josh, or North before.”

“Sounds great. Besides, I know I said we’d check it out tomorrow but honestly we could use a day away from the case. Let it marinate for twenty-four hours and then see what we come up with.”

After Hank finished eating, they cleaned up the kitchen together before heading back to the bedroom. Neither of them felt like trying to pay attention to the TV, the day having nearly drained the both of them. Connor had just finished changing out of his uniform, and replying to Markus’ response informing him he’d be at New Jericho all day, when Hank returned from the bathroom, his arms wrapping around his waist as he hooked his chin over his shoulder. “Thank you again, for what you said today.”

“I only spoke the truth,” Connor insisted as he leaned back into the hold. “You are much too hard on yourself.”

“Old habits die hard, unfortunately. But, thanks to you, I’m working on it.”

Connor turned in his arms so they were chest to chest, his arms looping up around his neck. “Glad I could help.”

This time, Hank dipped down to kiss him, Connor humming into it. They kissed languidly for a few minutes, at least until Hank’s hands slid to cup his ribs before slowly dragging down towards his waist. “You really were amazing today, Con,” Hank whispered as he dragged the kiss over his cheekbone to his jaw. Connor immediately tilted his head, allowing him room to roam across his skin. “You barely spent thirty minutes in that apartment before you came out with the RK’s M.O. Fuck, the things you can do. Still amazes me.”

“I-I am one of—_oh_—the best of my kind,” Connor sputtered out, moaning when Hank nibbled at that sensitive spot by his ear.

“Yes, you are,” Hank practically purred. The sound vibrated sharply through Connor, his head sharply dropping back. Hank’s hands then took the opportunity to cup his ass and _squeeze_. “Mind if I reward you for a job well done?”

“N-no.”

That appeared to be all the permission Hank needed before he was suddenly being hoisted into the air. Instinctively he crossed his ankles around Hank’s back, his lips seeking contact against his again. When Hank settled them down onto the bed, he pressed himself upright against the headboard, being sure to keep them chest to chest. “You remember the rules don’t you?”

Connor watched Hank reach for his nightstand, his fingers instinctively tightening into his hair when he retrieved a small bottle from the drawer. “Con, I need an answer. What did we agree on?”

Refusing to take his eyes away, his analysis program coming back with a sensual lube brand, he managed a shaky nod. “Y-yes, I remember.”

The tug at his hair finally snapped his attention back to Hank who was staring at him with an impatient brow. “A real answer, Connor.”

He shuddered against the insistent tug as he forced an unnecessary swallow. “If I don’t like anything you do, say stop. That-that this is for both of us not—_nngh_—not just you.”

“Good boy,” Hank praised his effort. Well, if the shorts he was wearing weren’t tight in the crotch before, they sure as hell were now. “Let’s start by getting these damn clothes off. Wanna see that gorgeous skin of yours.”

Connor helped him pull the DPD sweatshirt over his head before gently tossing it onto the chair. When he reached for the band of his shorts, however, he hesitated, locking eyes with him as if asking permission. Which, Connor realized, was exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t new information that Connor tended to go commando once out of his uniform, so the second the shorts came off, Hank would see _all_ of him for the very first time. All of their playing around before this had at least the pants still involved, but now…well. 

As Connor quickly considered all outcomes to every possible decision he could make though, he suddenly realized that there was only one thing he wanted: Hank. This was his human, the one who’d taken care of him the second he started questioning the world. Had given him a place to stay and loved him for all he was. There was no scenario in existence where he would ever hurt Connor intentionally.

So, to answer his silent question, he grasped the hand patiently hooked into his shorts before sensually kissing him. As his free hand scratched at Hank’s scalp, the other helped Hank slowly ease the piece of clothing down to his thighs before he kicked them off to the floor. His cheeks flamed as he hesitantly watched Hank’s reaction to seeing what’d been hidden beneath. Not that he had anything to worry about because Hank looked _entranced_ by Connor. The hand not gripping his hip was smoothing up and down the panes of his stomach while his eyes lingered on the flushed head of Connor’s cock. 

When the silence started to become too much, Connor gripped at his hair again. “Hank…”

When Hank finally met his stare, those blue eyes were blown wide. Even if Connor couldn’t feel Hank’s sweats tightening against his thigh, the dilation in his pupils clearly showed how aroused he was. Then, he felt rough fingers graze the length of synthetic flesh, and all thinking went out the window. “Fuck!”

“Those bastards made you fucking perfect, didn’t they? Perfect face, perfect body, perfect cock,” Hank cooed in his ear. “Almost like they made you just for _me_.”

Connor whimpered as he mouthed sloppily at Hank’s neck, all attention narrowed to the fingers circling his dick. He’d never been touched down there by somebody else before, had barely had the time to explore it himself, but good God did he love it. Did it feel this sensitive to humans? Hank’s thumb dipping into the slit, smearing whatever synthetic liquid had pooled at the tip, snatched all thought process again, his moan long as Hank’s hand moved back down to the base. Did Hank have magical hands or something? Was it like this _every_ time?

More than that, Connor wanted to feel Hank, too. Wanted to touch him, to make him feel like Connor was feeling right now. He’d only even been able to imagine what Hank looked like under those baggy clothes, had multiple fantasies about it while Hank was in the shower, but he knew reality would blow them all out of the water. Maybe, if he asked politely..,

“Hank?” Connor whispered, desperately trying to think straight through the haze of pleasure. “Hank, I want—I—”

God, why was thinking so hard? Hank, thankfully, took mercy on him as he relinquished his dick. “Use your words, Con. What do you want?”

“I want to touch you too,” Connor nearly whined. He didn’t care if he sounded like a five-year-old begging for a treat. All he wanted was to touch Hank everywhere and anywhere he was allowed. “Please, Hank. Let me.”

Hank seemed to hesitate, and Connor was prepared to turn down any and every excuse Hank was going to throw at him, but was also being prepared to back off if it was too much. Surprisingly though, Hank nodded before giving him a soft kiss. “Alright, but only because you asked so nicely.”

A new spark of excitement and arousal pooled in his lower regions as Hank reached for the hemming of his t-shirt, Connor eagerly helping him tug it off. As soon as his chest was bared to the room his eyes freely roamed, hands immediately dragging down through gray chest hair. It was then that he noticed the faded black ink etched across his torso. “You have a tattoo?”

Hank chuckled with a shrug. “Went through a rebellious rocker phase. Got it after getting shit-faced at a concert.”

Connor lightly traced the large tattoo in awe. The wings stretched from the edge of one pec to the other, intricate designs consisting of swirls, shapes, and arrows all circled around a generic brunette’s face where it rested directly over the center of his sternum. As wide as it was though, it sat low enough to always stay hidden beneath his collar. Hank had showered multiple times since he’d moved in, but had always dressed in the bathroom before Connor could see anything passed his biceps and thighs. He’d wished he’d seen all of this sooner. 

Unable to fight the urge any longer, he leaned down and pressed his lips against the black markings. Hank softly exhaled, his fingers slipping back into Connor’s hair to cradle his head. “Got a thing for tattoos, huh?”

As he mouthed the entire expanse of his chest, his long fingers slid down over Hank’s stomach, scratched through a thick happy trail, before tracing the waistband of his sweats. When he insistently tugged, peeking one brown eye up without having to lift his head, Hank shook his head with a grin. “Alright, alright, you frisky android.”

When he nudged Connor off his lap, Connor slipped off to sit next to his thigh, anxiously watching as Hank lifted his hips to tug both his sweats and his boxers off. The sound of something heavy slapping Hank’s stomach practically echoed through the small bedroom, and all Connor could do was stare. To say Hank was thick was an understatement. It may not have been long, maybe a little more than average, but the girth was beyond that and it was fucking perfect. Connor’s hand began to move before he really thought about it, but thankfully he caught himself and managed to tear his eyes away. “Can I?”

Hank motioned a hand down the front of his body. “Knock yourself out.”

Not needing to be told twice, Connor gently wrapped his fingers around the shaft of Hank’s cock, Hank immediately hissing at the touch. He’d be lying if he said he’d never done any research to prepare for this moment, but nothing could compare to the real thing. Slowly he began to move his hand, copying what Hank had done to him, while also putting a few techniques he’d learn online into play. The sound of Hank’s head falling back against the headboard also gave him the courage to try something else he’d seen online.

With the swiftness he was programmed with, he straddled Hank’s thighs and snatched up the long-forgotten bottle of lube. Hank instantly lifted his head again, obviously curious, but the second Connor wrapped his free hand around both their dicks, he put two-and-two together. “You been studying or something, Con?”

Connor blatantly ignored the heat in his cheeks, deciding to focus on popping the lube top open before drizzling some between them. The hand holding their cocks—and perfectly showing just how massive Hank was compared to the average dick—began to move again. The slick feeling of his fingers and thumb twisting and jerking his cock against Hank’s put the earlier hand job to shame. And, judging by the way Hank surged up to grasp his hair and kiss him, Hank agreed. When a rough hand curled around the other side of their shafts, covering the spans of skin his own fingers couldn’t quite reach, heat began to boil through his lower half. 

He knew what was going to happen, what was coming, and he quickened the pace of their hands. “H-Hank. Hank, I’m going to—”

“Me too. Me too,” Hank grunted before shoving their mouths clumsily back together. “Together, yeah?”

If Connor thought the orgasm from two weeks ago was good, it didn’t hold a candle to this. The heat climaxed and he swore he saw stars as he practically shouted Hank’s name, his pleasure sensors sending his body into temporary shut-down to prevent overheating.

**[Overheating Detected]**

**[Rebooting…]**

**[Rebooting…]**

**[Rebooting…]**

**[Cooldown Complete]**

**[Rebooting Complete]**

When his systems finally kicked back on, Connor found himself already cleaned up and nestled beneath the comforter, Hank’s arm secure around his shoulders as he mumbled something into his hair. “Hank?”

“Didn’t think my dick was that fantastic.”

Connor softly shoved at his ribs before shifting so he was completely plastered to his side. “Your dick gets that title the day I finally get it inside me.”

Hank cackled as he ran a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“The rest of you is amazing though.”

To prove his point, he gently ran his thumb over where his hand rest on Hank’s belly. God, he didn’t think he’d ever get over being able to touch Hank’s skin. Hank let out an unimpressed hum, but thankfully didn’t attempt to argue. He always lost, anyway. “How you feeling?”

“Amazing.” He nuzzled back into Hank’s neck. “Did you at least get off this time?”

“I had a naked android in my lap screaming my name as he came harder than I’ve ever seen in my life,” Hank reiterated what had obviously happened before he blacked out. “Anyone would have blown their load after seeing that.”

Connor couldn’t help his laugh. “You flatterer, you.”

Hank kissed Connor’s head, blunt nails scratching at his scalp. “I love you, Con.”

“I love you too, Hank.”

They slept in the next morning, Connor willing to linger in stasis a little longer than normal considering they’d already told Fowler they were taking the day off. He’d been pissed about Hank taking time off he barely had, but didn’t turn them down. Instead he warned them they’d better get in only earlier the next morning. After ‘making out like teenagers’, as Hank called it, in bed for a good while, they eventually got up to start their day. He hadn’t given Markus a specific arrival time, so he figured it would be fine if he made Hank breakfast. They took Sumo for his morning walk, made sure his water bowl was full, and then finally made their way towards New Jericho.

“Holy shit,” Hank whistled when they arrived at the complex. “This place is massive.”

“There were a lot of androids that needed homes,” Connor explained as they made their way towards Markus’ building. “You should have seen it before they renovated.”

“Worth it considering how great the place looks.”

When they reached the main office, they were greeted by Markus’ PJ500 companion, Josh. Before Connor could open his mouth, however, Josh was sharply pulling him inside. “Thank God you’re here.”

Connor stared back at Hank who managed to stumble after him just before Josh slammed the door. “What’s going on, Josh?”

“It’s Markus. Something—happened.”

“Like what?” Connor asked, instantly focused on the conversation. If Markus was in trouble, Connor needed every detail. “Is he alright?”

“We don’t know.”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?” Hank barked. “Did you lose him or something?”

Josh didn’t answer any of their questions, silently leading them down the hallway opposite the meeting room. By the time they reached the end of it, they were greeted by an anxious looking North and Simon. “Connor?” Simon’s brows rose. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”

“I informed Markus I would be stopping by today with a guest.” Hank must have finally made it down the hall after them, for North and Simon’s eyes instantly widened. Connor immediately stepped back to stand by his side. “North, Simon, Josh, this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson.”

“Just Hank is fine,” Hank corrected with a small wave. “So, anyone want to tell us what’s going on with Markus?”

“We don’t know,” Simon answered, sounding the most dejected Connor had ever heard. Usually Simon was the neutral one, never easy to anger but pretty easy to please. “He refuses to come out of his bedroom, and he’s cut off contact with all of us.”

“The only reason we know he hasn’t been assassinated is the fact we can hear him shuffling around in there,” Josh added.

North snorted. “Or it’s whoever assassinated him.”

Simon lightly smacked her arm with a glare. “Would you stop saying that?”

“Did anything traumatic happen that would have caused him to shut down like this?” Connor interrupted.

All of them shook their heads. “The day after your last visit, we had a mutual break-up,” North informed them. Well, nice to know Markus took his advice. “I mean, we’re keeping it on the low down until things in Detroit settle more, but it didn’t seem like a huge deal to either of us.”

“He’d been doing fine the last few days, and Markus isn’t the type to keep quiet about what he’s feeling,” Josh reminded them. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“May I try speaking to him?” Connor suggested.

North waved towards the bedroom. “Good luck.”

Connor didn’t waste time approaching the door. When he pressed his ear against the wood, his auditory sensors picked up the faint sound of pacing. He eventually knocked. “Markus? It’s me, Connor. Is everything alright?”

To his surprise, the footsteps rushed the door. He’d barely had the chance to step back before the door was swinging open and Markus was pulling Connor into the bedroom. He shut the door and locked it again before anyone else could get another word out. Connor wasn’t worried about the brief moment of kidnapping; Markus was the only other being in the room, he’d already checked. Markus himself didn’t stay still long, and once he was sure the door was secure, went back to pacing in front of a large bed. Androids had grown to like the feeling of lying in a soft bed during stasis, and it was great for cuddling, so he wasn’t surprised Markus had one.

“Connor!” Hank’s voice muffled through the door. “You good?”

“I’m fine, Hank!”

“Cool. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

Connor couldn’t help his fond smile as he heard heavily booted steps return down the hallway. “The Lieutenant is here?”

Markus’ voice box was staticky, as if he hadn’t used it in days. He looked worn down, exhausted, even though scans showed he’d recently been in stasis. His thirium levels were on the lower side though, so maybe that had something to do with it. Overall, Connor could tell something was definitely wrong. “Yes. I told you yesterday Lieutenant Anderson would be accompanying me.”

The Jericho leader instantly sighed, defeated. “Forgive me. I-I forgot.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or am I going to have to put the pieces together myself?” Connor pressured. “I am a detective android, in case you forgot.”

That, thankfully, got a weak laugh out of him. “You’re going to assume I’m crazy.”

“I had a woman living in my head, remember? I’ve been through crazy.”

Markus dragged his hands up and down his face multiple times before he collapsed onto the bench that was resting at the foot of the bed. “I keep trying to convince myself it was a nightmare, but it felt—it just felt so real. Like I’d actualy lived it once before.”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning? What did you see?”

More silence followed but, Connor had been programmed to be patience when necessary. He was in love with one of the most stubborn men in the world, after all, so he’s had plenty of practice. Sure enough, two minutes and fourteen seconds later, Markus gave in with a defeated sigh. “There was this-this voice. It knew that I was in some sort of turmoil and wanted to help me. But apparently helping me meant showing me videos of what could have happened during the revolution.”

Connor felt the wires of his stomach clench when he realized exactly what had happened to Markus, but he kept the need to interrupt tapped down.

“More than that, they all centered around the one I care about most,” Markus continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I had to stand there and watch him die _five times_. He-he kept sacrificing himself for me, let himself be beat to death for me, and even gave up his heart to keep me functioning, not once caring about himself. It was fucking awful, but none of them compared to—to watching—”

When the fluid welled in Markus’ eyes, Connor knew what he’d seen. “Him die by your own hand.”

Markus’ head snapped up with so much force, Connor briefly worried he’d snapped something in his neck. “What—what did you just say?”

“If I hadn’t deviated, Hank would be dead right now,” Connor began as he moved to stand directly in front of him. “He would have been shot by the RK800-60 in the tower, he would have ended his own life, or he would have fallen off of a rooftop. The worst part was, I could have stopped each and every single one of them, too. But, instead, I was forced to watch this heartless and unfeeling machine happily stand by and let it all happen. I chose the revolution over protecting Hank from my clone, and did nothing to save him as he lay bleeding out in that tower. I knew Hank was going to shoot himself, but I still left him alone in his kitchen and proceeded to stand outside to purposefully wait for the gunshot. Then, he tried to stop me from sniping you at the Recycling Plant and I dropped him off of a building for it.”

Connor had to stop a moment, his thirium pump aching as each memory flashed across his vision. After taking a breath, and reminding himself Hank was alive and breathing out in the office, he knelt down in front of Markus. When their eyes met, Markus bit sharply down onto his bottom lip. “So, you’re telling me that it wasn’t a nightmare? That those events truly could have happened?”

“Yes.”

“But why? The revolution is over, so why bring up these impossible events now?”

“My visit may have been a warning to future devastation, but yours—from what I have heard, you have been in turmoil recently, and it is not because of your break-up with North. Instead, I think this entity showed you these fatal events in an attempt to convince you that you have nothing to fear when it comes to confessing to the person you love. Those videos were proof that your heart would have chosen you time and time again before this, and that it definitely will choose you now,” Connor considered. It was very sappy but it was also very Chloe; she seemed to be the type to read trashy romance novels. Gay-centered ones, none-the-less, though he wasn’t complaining. “She really needs to stop frightening people like this though; it’s traumatizing.”

“She?”

Connor waved him off; like he’d stated before, he had no intentions of telling anyone that Elijah Kamski’s Chloe was the infamous RA9 thousands of androids looked for guidance from. “Slip of the tongue, forgive me.”

“You’re not—you’re not wrong. Once North and I officially ended things, I had all intentions of telling my true heart how I felt. But then…”Markus shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess the doubt just settled in and I couldn’t get out of it.”

“Is it Simon?”

Markus laughed a self-deprecating thing that reminded him of Hank. “How did you know?”

“I had a feeling it was one of your companions but, as much as I enjoy Josh, I do not see him as the type to jump in front of a bullet for you. Simon, however, is fiercely protective of you and I believe he would do anything and everything to keep you safe.”

“How can I tell him though? I chose North. All of my attention had been split between her and the revolution. Looking back on it now, he was always there, always being the voice of reason I selfishly didn’t credit him for. I don’t want him to think—”

“And now?”

“What?”

“How do you treat him now?”

Even in the dim lighting, Connor could see the flush in his cheeks. “I am trying not to overwhelm him, but I want to give him the world, Connor. I’ve been asking him to come with me to Washington, we’ve been having late night conversations in the office together. Now—God, I’ve probably scared the shit out of him with my behavior today.”

“He’s just worried about you. If you went out and spoke with him, maybe took a walk around the complex together, you could find the proper words to not only apologize, but tell him the truth.”

Markus heaved out a sigh as his shoulders seemed to drop eighty pounds of weight. “How are you so good at this?”

“Oh, I am terrible at this. Hank, however, is great with spilling poetry when it comes to feelings. I’m just copying from the best.”

“Thank you, Connor. I guess I should go out there now, huh?”

“North appears to be five seconds away from ripping the door from its hinges, so yes. I believe you should.”

Connor left the room first, nodding his head to the three anxious companions still lingering in the hall, before gently pushing passed to walk back out into the office. They needed a moment alone with their leader, and Connor needed to find Hank. He found the lieutenant lounging in one of the waiting chairs, his legs straight out in front of him as he slouched in an attempt to get comfortable. “How’d it go with Robo—Jesus, ow!”

Connor had collapsed sideways into his lap, his knees tucking against one arm of the chair while his back came to rest against the other. It gave him the perfect angle to wrap his arms around Hank’s bulk of a chest and shove his face into his neck. “I love you.”

Seeming to realize Connor was not in distress, and simply needed cuddles, Hank pulled him tighter against him before tucking his head beneath his scruffy cheek. “I love you too,” he reassured him. “Want to talk about it?”

“Chloe visited him last night.”

“Creepy vision Chloe or the real Chloe?”

“Creepy vision. I guess she showed Markus all the ways Simon died for him during the revolution.”

“I’m assuming Simon is the one Markus was referring to when he asked for love advice.” Connor nodded. “Well, what’s he going to do?”

“Chloe wouldn’t traumatize him for nothing. I think, all this fear of not knowing Simon’s feelings in return, was effecting him negatively enough that even Chloe knew she had to do something to help.”

“Like you said, she doesn’t interfere for nothing. Hell, if it hadn’t been for her, neither of us would be alive right now.” Connor couldn’t help his whine as he pushed himself closer. “Ah, figured that would answer the sudden clinginess.”

“I hate thinking about it.”

“Then don’t. Remember what you told me the other day? I love you, you love me, and that’s all we need to care about. Everyone else can fuck off.”

Connor breathed out a chuckle before finally lifting his head. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Con.”

The conversation down the hallway was faint, but still going strong. North was most likely giving Markus the third-degree for locking them out, and Simon was definitely fretting like he always does. Connor could understand the blond’s urge. Now though, he felt like spoiling. “Carl keeps a bottle of his good scotch here.”

“Yeah?”

“Want to try a glass?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, is my android-nanny taking the baby locks off?” 

It was a heatless joke; Hank hadn’t shown any interest in drinking anything heavier than beer since Connor moved in. The only whiskey he’d had since was on the night Fowler had asked him out for a drink—“_to catch up on old times_” he’d said—and even then it’d only been a single glass. “I will take my offer back.”

The bark of a laugh jostled him, their tangled arms the only thing keeping him from hitting the floor. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Like I’d give up the opportunity to try a famous guy like Carl Manfred’s good scotch.”

“That’s what I thought” Connor scoffed before kissing his cheek and standing back up. “I’ll be right back. It’s in the meeting room.”

“Seriously, Connor, I can get it!”

“Sit. Stay. Good boy,” Connor winked at him, beaming at Hank’s middle finger.

Markus kept the liquor cart in the meeting room for the occasional late-night negotiation. Sometimes, when politicians needed a little bump, a glass or two of whiskey was exactly what the doctor ordered. Plus, he always kept at least one-bottle in case Carl came by for a surprise visit. Sure enough, Connor spotted the cart in the far corner of the room beneath where the projector screen was tucked up into the ceiling. He snagged a glass from the bottom shelf and, as he stood back up, he felt cool fingers wrap around the back of his neck.

And then all Connor could see was a wall of red errors as his entire body seized.

The second his auditory sensors began to shut down, he knew exactly what was happening. He’d read everything there was about the frenzy virus, read every test result Cyberlife recorded, and had even watched a couple of videos of infected patients. It was—no, no, no, no, Connor couldn’t get the virus. Not here, not in the middle of New Jericho! Not with Hank in the next room! He was a hunter, a killer, and if he was wound up and set loose people were going to die. Panic bloomed in his chest but, despite his internal screams to fight against the invisible restraints immobilizing him, to get the hell away from the RK before the upload could reach completion, Connor knew it was too late. He had no chance of making it out of this one.

**[V̻͍͐ͧ̔i̹̅ͥ̄̑̒̊̎ͤr͉̞̯̼͔̗͖ͣ̋͗̂ú̫̣̲ͦͬ̊ͮͬ̄ͧs̙̜̀̽ͦ̒́̋̈́ ̗͗̂̇͒Upload C̅o̬̼̺̲ͨ̓m̥̖̖̹͎̰̆̅̄p̙͓̯̭̣̰̳ͥ̀͆̃l̥̝͙ͭ͌̒̓͌̇͊̊ẽ̯̫̖̬̣ͣ̆t͔̭̄̊e]**

The words had barely glitched across his reddened vision before the rage burned through his systems, spiking his stress levels dangerously. The emotion filled him head to toe, boiling so hot he became almost desperate to get rid of it. He didn’t care who he was, he didn’t care why he was in this room; all the RK800 knew was that he needed to get this crazed fury _out_. 

As he began to roam the room, jaw clenched as the urge to rip something apart pulsed through him, shadows began to appear behind the reddened haze still across his optical units. Had _they_ done this to him? Were they the cause of this—of this pain? One of the figures made the stupid mistake of trying to approach him and the RK800 immediately lunged. He tackled the shadow to the ground, identifying it as a PJ500 model, before striking it across the face. Within seconds he’d already calculated six different ways to destroy it; basic model androids were so easy to kill.

Before he could angle the perfect blow to the PJ’s thirium pump, he was grabbed from behind and shoved away. The RK800 hit the rug, only to smoothly roll over his left shoulder and rise back to his feet. There were five figures all together—an RK200, the PJ500, a WR400, a PL600, and a human—easily handleable for something as deadly as the RK800 model. As he slowly approached them, there was another hot flash of rage, the burning nearly crippling him as his stress levels spiked even higher. He needed it out. He needed it out!

He felt his mouth open, his throat vibrating with a scream, before he was charging the group. He’ll rip apart whatever he has to just to make the boiling heat stop. He dealt with the two stronger androids—the RK200 and the WR400—by kicking them hard into one another, before immediately going for the PL600. His hand wrapped around his throat as he slammed him against one of the walls, his grip tightening sharply when the PL struggled. Before he could snap his neck, he was once again grabbed from behind. Instead of releasing the PL, he used his body to slam it into the approaching PJ500 and human. When the arms holding his didn’t release, he kicked off of a nearby desk and shoved all his weight back. They both hit the carpet, RK800 bouncing off and slipping to his knees before his captor could even sit up. He kicked the dazed RK200 in the face before turning to the remaining threats. The PL600 was slumped against the far wall, disappointingly still breathing, but the WR400 and the PJ500 were closing in on him again.

Wait, where was the human?

His answer came when a heavy weight tackled him from his side. What the hell did this idiotic human think he was doing? RK800 easily rolled them before slamming the larger man onto his back. He straddled his hips, grabbing the collar of his jacket for better leverage. As he raised his free hand to beat the man’s face in—anything to get this god damn rage _out_—the human made an odd move. Instead of trying to struggle and escape, he shoved two thick fingers straight into the RK800’s mouth. Something slick brushed his tongue, dazing him for a millisecond, before he shifted his jaw to clamp down.

Just as he made to bite the fingers off the bone, new words glitched between the haze and the human’s face. It was—a name?

**[L̝̬ͫ̌ͥͅi̩̫̼̙̾ͩ̃ͨ̉̈e̲̼̩̩̠ͪͮ̿̇ͣ͆̅u̼̬̲͙͊̓̾̎̏ͬ̉̊t̮͆͊͐̇̉ͅͅe͓͉ͣnant Ha̠ṉ͈̜ͣ͑͐k͉̜͔̗̙̆͑̂͂ͣ̆ ̲̘̼̮͎̻͓͂̍̔̑͆A͇̭̹̭̻̤ͪ̅ͭ̉̋̀n̮̆͂̃ͪ̈̒ͣd̩̦̅erson]**

It should have meant nothing to his overheated mind, yet it still caught something in him. Made his thirium pump throb painfully. Who was this man? Who were these androids?

Who—who was the RK800?

Pain burst white hot through his skull, his hands releasing the human—Hank Anderson—to grip his head. He threw himself backwards and away; what had this man done to him? He could feel his throat vibrate again, screaming those exact words. Instead of backing away to safety and leaving him there, however, the human slowly approached him again. RK800 panicked, the battle between the searing name and the rage ripping him in two as he shot a hand out and grabbed him by the throat.

Even through the haze he could see the man’s mouth moving, his throat vibrating against his tactile sensors to the point he could almost—_almost_—make out what he was saying. It was repeated over and over, the man’s palms open and empty between them, ever so calm. Slowly, the haze seemed to dissipate, the boiling cooling minutely and his stress levels dropping the more the man talked. The name, it—it was—

It was _his_ name?

**[M̪̻͎̪͙o͕̙̗͋̔d̗̻ͫ͂͂e̞̮͗ͭ̍ḽ̆̍ͧ̚ ̳̈ͭͥͅR̦̟̹̣ͦè̳̜̄ͣg̗̝̐͊ͯi͕̗̤͐ͤșͪ̈͗̇t̖͔̩̋ͬê͈̩ͭͤr͇̲͇͇̀e͙͛͐̎ͫd̻͙̓ͣ̂ ̮̪̅̒̄N̞͓̎ͮͥạ̹̯͑̒ṁ̻͉̔͑e̼͖ͨ͑͗?͉͚ͮ̈ͥ]**

What was his name? It was right there, being spoken by this man, but he couldn’t hear. God, he desperately wanted to hear his name. Who was he?

**[ M̪̻͎̪͙o͕̙̗͋̔d̗̻ͫ͂͂e̞̮͗ͭ̍ḽ̆̍ͧ̚ ̳̈ͭͥͅR̦̟̹̣ͦè̳̜̄ͣg̗̝̐͊ͯi͕̗̤͐ͤșͪ̈͗̇t̖͔̩̋ͬê͈̩ͭͤr͇̲͇͇̀e͙͛͐̎ͫd̻͙̓ͣ̂ ̮̪̅̒̄N̞͓̎ͮͥạ̹̯͑̒ṁ̻͉̔͑e̼͖ͨ͑͗?͉͚ͮ̈ͥ]**

Then, like a whisper in the wind, he heard it. 

“Connor.”

** [R̥͓ͭe͇̘ͨ̎gͤ̈̒ͭ͊̚ĭ̖̠͗͊̊͐s̫̘̮͋͆̆̂ͫt̰̙̫̍̆ͩ̈̈e̦̪͉͌̀̉̏͌r͖̼͂ͬ͊̍ͩe̙͉̦ͦ̓d̼̲̈́ ̆Name:**  
** C̹̼̣ͨͅo̰͒̊́̇ǹ̙̮̝̹ṋ̓̑̍̒ȏ̱̝͇ͥrͪ͐ͤ͊̋]**

His name was Connor.

Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife.

Connor, who worked for the DPD in the android homicide department.

Connor, who had helped the RK200 standing in the corner win freedom for androids.

Connor, who lived at 115 Michigan Drive with his partner, Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

The Hank Anderson who Connor loved with all of his being and who loved him just as much back. 

**[ V̳̋͆̒ͥȉ͍͗͌ͫr̤ͭ̆͋͛û̠͖̜͕s̮̜̪͛̏ ̘̭͇̆̓C͚̙̞̓͗o̥̤̰͌͗r̼̻̒̇̑r̂̆͌͌ͧu͎̗̅̈̈́p̠̯̈̂̓t͕̆̾͛̈e̹̰̓́̐d̤̫̙̗ͧ]**

**[Recommended A̞̜̾ͥͫć̠̹̆̓t̥̰͍ͯ̚i̥̔͒ͯͯo̳̺̖͈̔ṇ̘̈́̒ͅś͖̎͐̆: **  
**Delete a͛̏͑ͬ̈́nͥ̑ͨ̎̑d̅̐̒ͥ̚ Reupload]**

**[Delete Now? Y/N]**

The yes option flashed briefly, a percentage bar lining the bottom of his vision. As it began to fill, the red finally, mercifully, began to fizzle from his vision, giving him a better view of the room. Markus, who was bleeding from a gash in his temple, was crouched protectively next to Simon, whose throat was bruised with Connor’s fingerprints. North and Josh, whose cheek plating seemed cracked beneath the synthetic skin, stood in front of them, and Hank—Hank remained perfectly still while Connor’s fingers continued to grip his throat.

**[Deletion Completed: 100%]**

Slowly, Connor removed his hand, his eyes refusing to blink despite the fluid filling them. He’d tried to kill Hank. After everything Chloe had warned him about during the revolution, he’d still almost ended Hank’s life _with his own two hands_. “Connor?” Hank softly called, still unmoving. “You back with me?”

Connor managed a meek nod. “Yes.”

Hank’s entire body went lax as his arms fell limp at his sides. Then, he offered that side grin, and grasped the space between Connor’s shoulder and neck. “Christ, you scared the shit out of me! You alright?”

The tears instantly spilled down his cheeks as he let out a choked cry. “_Hank_.”

Hank used the grip on his shoulder to jerk him forward into his chest, curling him up into his lap as Connor broke down. “I gotcha, you damn android. I gotcha.”

Connor shouldn’t be doing this. He should be locked up; he’d just tried to kill Hank and his android companions, he was dangerous! But right now, all he wanted was to embed himself into everything that was his human. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t—I couldn’t get out. I didn’t want—”but it was lost in his cries.

Hank didn’t respond, instead choosing to gently hush him as he held him close with an arm around his waist and a hand at the back of his head. So, Connor openly sobbed into his shoulder until his body nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Didn’t help that the frenzy virus had completely drained him: his limbs felt like jelly, his thirium levels had lowered thanks to the overheating of his system, and his head felt fuzzy. Though, that could have come from all the crying. He was just glad his stress levels had fallen to a safer percentage.

When he quieted into soft sniffles, Hank gently nudged him away from his absolutely soaked shoulder, to cup his face between both hands. Connor weakly managed to lift his arms and press them harder against his skin before they fell limply back at his sides. His tactile sensors were sluggish right now, making Hank’s touch too faint. “Con? You ok to answer some questions?”

Connor nodded, though let his eyes close; he knew Hank would hold him up. It was Markus’ voice he heard next. “Was it the virus the RK tried to upload into Melanie?”

“Yes.”

“Is it completely eradicated from your system?” North pressed.

“Yes.”

There were multiple sighs of relief before Josh spoke. “How did you manage to get rid of it? I thought it was supposed to be impossible once perfected, or whatever.”

Connor didn’t have the energy to try and explain to him that it was Hank who’d broken through—_always Hank_—so instead, he managed a small shrug. “Did you see who uploaded it?” Markus continued to question. 

This was good; if Connor’s memory core had been damaged from the virus, preventing short term memories from being saved until repairs could be done, at least someone would have answers for their records. Connor barely managed to shake his head. “Came—behind me.”

“So, the bastard was _here_?” North gasped in horror. “How didn’t we see it? Where the hell did it go?”

“Wait a minute,” Hank’s voice rumbled. “This android has been practicing for weeks, yeah? Moved on from manual to wireless, almost like it was leveling up to prepare for the boss level.”

“Like in a video game?” Simon asked, his voice box full of static. 

Connor flinched at the sound; he will definitely have to apologize to Simon, and Markus, later. Nothing like interrupting a possible love confession by kicking everyone’s ass. Hank soothingly ran his thumbs over his cheeks, before easing him back down against his shoulder, more focused on his train of thought than holding Connor up. “Exactly. Now, gold star for anyone who can tell me how you defeat a Deviant Hunter.”

Markus seemed to get it first. “Upload a murder virus into it and set it loose through an android sanctuary during a time when androids are protected. He’d most likely be shot on sight during his rage out.”

“Are you telling me that _Connor_ has been the target all this time?”

“A lot of people still loathe him for being a Deviant Hunter,” Simon attempted again. “None of them can accept the fact he sucked at his job.”

“So, someone wants him dead, and they want _androids_ to be the ones to do it?” North gaped. “For what? Some kind of metaphorical penance for what he was created for?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think Connor should be around to find out.”

Connor felt his body being shifted until strong arms hauled up off the ground. “Hank?”

“I’m taking you home,” Hank reassured him. “Markus—”

“We’ll investigate. See if the security cameras caught anything, or anyone, odd around the complex. Just take care of him.”

The second Hank began to move, Connor felt the last bit of his strength slip. He was alright, though. Hank would take care of him. He always did.

**[Entering Stasis]**

**[Allotted Time?]**

**[Unknown]**

When Connor woke, it was to the feeling of fingers running through his hair. He could tell by the rumbled breathing against the left side of his head that it was Hank. Slowly he opened his eyes, his systems seeming to be booting up at a normal pace, which meant he’d been in stasis long enough to repair the overheating damage. He’d need to raise his thirium levels, but there were thirium Caprisun supplies in the fridge he could raid once he decided to move.

“Hank?”

Sure enough, Hank appeared in his vision a second later. “Hey, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?”

“My systems are fully operational.” He flinched at the sharp poke to his ribs; Hank never had patience for his analytical bullshit. “I’m better. How long was I out?”

“About twelve hours.”

Connor sharply sat up and stared at him. “I was asleep for twelve hours!?”

Sure enough, when he saw the time flash in the corner of his right eye, it’d been almost exactly twelve hours since he went into stasis. Hank, being Hank, ignored the outburst as he tossed the paperback he’d been reading onto the nightstand. “Yeah, forgive me for letting the stupid android I’m in love with rest after I nearly lost him to a virus some psychopath specifically perfected to kill him.”

Guilt sharply stabbed through Connor, his tense posture instantly slouching as the glitched memories of the frenzy virus replayed through his memory core. He laid back down next to Hank and pressed into his side. Hank, thankfully, wrapped his arms around Connor and pulled him close. “I’m sorry, Hank.”

“You have no idea how scared I was,” Hank whispered into his hair. “I was calling out to you but you just—you kept looking at me with these empty eyes. You weren’t _there_ anymore and it fucking terrified me. I started to think that was it. I was going to lose you to this damn virus and—I couldn’t—I can’t lose you, Connor. I can’t fucking do it.”

At the sound of his shaky inhale, Connor pulled Hank impossibly closer, rolling them over and switching their positions so he could hold the older man against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Hank. But I’m right here, ok? I’m right here, and it’s all thanks to you. You were the only one who could pull me out; I didn’t know who the hell I was, but I knew _you_. It’s always going to be you. I love you.”

Connor held Hank like that for a long time, patiently waiting for Hank to find his words. He ran his fingers through Hank’s hair, the other hand tracing circles into his shoulder; he’d wait forever if that’s what he needed; Hank always did the same for him. “Whoever is doing this wants you dead, Con. And, once they find out you survived this last attack, they’re going to come back even harder.”

“I know.”

And Connor did know. He’d been in the next room, a mere hundred feet from five other people, and the RK still attacked. More than that, it successfully integrated a virus into him, then set him lose on innocent lives. “You’re also never leaving my sight again. You were gone five minutes and the bastard got you. No more going solo, you understand me?”

“Yes, lieutenant.”

They laid like that for even longer, though the silence was much less tense than before. Hank had his ear pressed roughly against Connor’s chest, mostly likely committing the sound of his pump’s beat to memory, while Connor ran soothing fingers up and down his spine. “Markus checked the security cameras while you were out.”

“What did he find?”

“Someone suspicious entered the building right before we got there and then apparently left right after you broke through the virus. He corroborated times just to be sure. Problem was, we never got a clear shot of the bastard’s face, like he knew where all of the cameras were.”

“If he’s an RK, he probably did know.”

“Yeah, that’s what Markus said. They were covered head to toe too, beanie and everything, so we aren’t even sure if it’s a male or female. Basically, we’re still in the same spot we were before shit hit the fan.”

“We’ll figure this out, Hank. I promise.”

They decided to still go to work the next day; the RK might have been ballsy enough to attack Connor in New Jericho, but there was no way he’d dare try it at the Central Station. Besides, they’d already made a deal: Connor didn’t go anywhere alone. If Hank was tied up, Connor swore he’d ask someone else to assist him. No matter where he went, there needed to be a second pair of eyes along with him.

As they walked into the bullpen, they apparently didn’t have to look far for that second pair of eyes. “RK900?” Connor questioned in surprised when he found the RK lingering around his desk. “Is everything alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” he stated briskly. “Markus told me what happened at New Jericho. That the RK has targeted you.”

Hank left them to speak, only going as far as to sit at his own desk. Connor managed a small smile. “I am fine. The virus drained my systems, so I was forced into stasis for a long time once I’d broken through, but it has been completely eradicated from my programming.”

RK900 didn’t look convinced, but gave a small hesitant nod anyway. “I know you are taking every precaution necessary, and I would like to be involved. If Lieutenant Anderson cannot assist you, then I will happily take his place.”

“R-Really?” Connor blinked in surprised. Yes, he and RK900 were close in the sense Connor was like a mentor. There when he needed advice, though he’d hardly needed any since joining. He’d been Connor’s replacement for a reason, after all. “You really don’t need—”

“Please, Connor. I _want_ to help you,” RK900 insisted. “I know—I know that you are my predecessor, and I-I know you may not accept me after—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Connor squeaked with a flail of his hands, sharply pressing them against RK900’s face. He didn’t lower them again until he was sure he’d stopped talking, those ice blue eyes blinking in confusion. Is that why he’d never approached Connor for help? Because he thought he _resented_ him? “I hold nothing against you, not for anything. Cyberlife created you to replace me, but all your programming told you was that you were an upgraded version of the RK800. You had no idea they were going to dismantle me once you were fully operational. Hell, for all you knew, I was already dead. Besides, you have never once proved a danger since you woke up, especially not towards me. 

If anything, I am _proud_ of you for creating your own future. You chose to work for the DPD, you chose to do good for both the human and android community, and you chose to be more than your programming. And that’s all I could ever ask of you.”

The RK900 stared at him, his lips parted in shock. Connor was briefly worried he’d somehow shorted out, then immediately started to panic when tears filled his eyes. An action that seemed to surprise RK900 just as much, his fingers slowly reaching up to touch a stray saline tear. “Oh.”

“Are you alright?!” Connor exclaimed as he scrambled to grab the box of tissues off of Hank’s desk, nearly taking his terminal with it. “Here!”

RK900 nodded as he took a tissue from the offered box and dabbed beneath his eyes. “I believe I am—I am _happy_. I appreciate your kind words, Connor.”

Connor couldn’t help his internal sigh of relief, his smile widening as he hugged the tissues to his chest. “I spoke the truth. And, if you truly wish to help keep an eye on me, I would appreciate the help.”

“I would too,” Hank grunted, having obviously been eaves-dropping the entire time. “Danger or not, we both know this asshole will still try to wander off on his own.”

“Would not!”

“Would too,” the RK900 teased, grinning at Connor’s offended gasp. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to make Detective Reed a new cup of coffee.”

“What happened with his old one?” Hank questioned suspiciously.

Connor understood his suspicion when he glanced over to find Reed’s desk empty. RK900, however, didn’t seem all that concerned. “After asking about my genitalia, or lack there-of, the detective suddenly found his coffee dumped into his lap. No idea how it happened.”

“You are amazing,” Connor beamed, Hank bursting into laughter behind them. “I will leave you to your work, then.”

With a departing nod, RK900 made his way into the break room, Connor finally sitting at his desk. When he glanced up again, Hank was grinning unabashed. “You are the best RK big brother, ever.”

“Shut up!”

“You’re also adorable when you blush.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too.”

The day went pretty smoothly, for DPD standards anyway. Reed, still pissed about having boiling coffee spilled in his lap, was giving everyone the silent treatment. RK900 did as he promised and kept an eye on Connor, occasionally connecting them mentally just to check in on him, even offering to join them when they went out for lunch. Connor accepted, though his brief concerns of lunch being awkward went out the window the second they settled down; Hank might have hated androids before, but now all of them warmed up to him faster than Connor ever had. And he loved watching his successor get along so well with the man that he was head over heels for.

Around five o’clock, however, things took an—_interesting_ turn. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Connor wasn’t entirely surprised that Reed had finally broken his vow of silent vengeance, but he was surprised when he turned to find him glaring at a beaming Elijah Kamski and his RT600 model, Chloe. “What? Not happy to see your step-brother after all these months?”

Well that was…Connor didn’t even have words for what he was seeing, exactly.

”Are you telling me you’re related to this asshole?” Hank gaped. “It’s a whole family of assholes!”

Kamski flashed him an even bigger smile as he set a briefcase down onto Reed’s desk. “Hello to you, too, Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Wait, you know Anderson? How?!” Reed demanded. “And what the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

“That’s my business, Gabby.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That,” Reed seethed. When RK900 turned a very amused smile at him, he sharply pointed at the android. “And you, shut the fuck up.”

“My, my! Is this the infamous RK900?” Kamski gasped in excitement. Connor was suddenly filled with the urge to hide him, flashbacks of his last encounter with Kamski pulling to the forefront of his mind. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Pull a gun on me again, Elijah,” Chloe warned smoothly, “and you _will_ be walking home.”

Kamski pouted at the blonde. “But—”

She raised a hand to cut him off. “You can speak with the RK900, _politely_, while I handle my business with Connor and Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Alright, alright. Do you mind, RK900?” Kamski asked, surprisingly just as polite as Chloe demanded.

RK900 flashed a hesitant look to Connor who nodded, his LED spinning with a single comment through their connection. “_If you feel uncomfortable, just call for me, and I will bring Chloe. She will put him in his place, immediately. _”

That seemed to soothe the RK, who eventually gave in with a nod. “Ask away, Mr. Kamski.”

“You are amazing,” Hank complimented almost dreamily. “That asshole deserves it after what he tried to get Connor to do.”

“As I’m sure Connor told you, Kamski paid dearly for that little stunt. Believe me,” she said with that not-so-innocent smile. “Now, would you mind if we spoke somewhere more private?”

“Sure thing. Follow me,” Hank motioned towards the interview rooms.

He held the door of the observation room open for both Chloe and Connor to pass through before he closed it behind them and locked it. “What is going on, Chloe?”

Chloe answered by snatching up a case file that’d been left behind and smacking him in the head with it. “Why did you not come to me after that rogue RK infected you with that virus?!”

Connor winced before running fingers through his mussed hair. “I—um—I honestly didn’t think about it.”

“I figured as much, hence why Elijah and I are here. I was able to sense details of what happened, but my power can only do so much.”

“Right, the RA9 thing,” Hank pondered as he crossed his arms. “Still freaky, and still awesome.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Anderson. Now, tell me exactly what happened, both of you. Do not leave any detail out.”

So, they did. Considering Connor mostly remembered a red haze of anger and pain, Hank had to do most of the talking to her. Not that it seemed Chloe minded much. Once they finished, ending with Connor shutting down so his systems could fix the overheating damages, Chloe frowned. “I knew something bad was going on, but I never could have imagined things reached this level.”

“Did you know about the RK-series virus?”

She nodded solemnly. “Elijah spoke of it after he snooped into the new RK series’ preproduction blueprints. You were created after he was released from Cyberlife, after all, though that never stopped him from poking his nose into the business every now and then. His Amanda Stern program survived his dismissal though, somehow.”

Hank scowled at Amanda’s name, Connor instinctively reaching over to grasp his wrist and soothingly run his thumb along his pulse point. “Do you by chance know who this RK is? We did our own research, but the only RK series androids that have been awoken have all been accounted for. Is there a chance there is another model with our capabilities?”

Chloe seemed to ponder the idea for a few moments, her pupils dilating multiple times, before she shrugged. “I want to say it is impossible, but after seeing how dark Cyberlife has turned since Elijah left, I cannot count it out.”

“And if it is a model with RK capabilities, we can’t even narrow it down,” Hank dragged his free hand down his face, “because half of the damn android population wants to see you shutdown.”

Connor squeezed his wrist even tighter. “Hank, we both know that won’t happen.”

“It almost did!” Hank snapped, more at the room than anyone in particular. “If we couldn’t talk you back to yourself and you managed to run rampant through that complex, you’d be dead right now.”

“As morbid as it is, he’s got a point, Connor. And, if this RK truly has it out for you like we suspect, they will try it again at some point.”

Which was something Connor had already come to the same conclusion about. They all had. Problem was, they couldn’t be sure _when_ that would happen. They sure as hell hadn’t been prepared for it back in New Jericho, and they won’t be prepared for it when it tries again, no matter how many people were trying to keep an eye on him. “So, what am I expected to do? I can’t just hide out in the house. Isolating myself will only leave me more vulnerable and open to attack.”

“We will have to go over options, but Elijah has brought a handful of inventions he thinks will help keep you as safe as we can.”

“Penance for all the bullshit, huh?”

“You could say that.”

Hank nodded, seeming to contemplate the idea as he slid his fingers through Connor’s. “Chloe, mind if I get personal?”

“Ask away, lieutenant.”

“How does your power work, exactly?”

“Hank,” Connor hissed, “you can’t just ask that!”

Chloe, however, giggled. “It’s alright, Connor, I don’t mind. RA9, as I’m sure you’ve heard, did start out as an error code. Elijah believes that is what started deviancy in androids, so essentially, I was the first deviant to ever exist. It was one of the reasons Elijah left Cyberlife, actually. Things started—_happening_, within my programming that he could no longer explain away, and the other directors were beginning to talk about tearing me apart to investigate.”

“What was happening?”

“I was beginning to hear things, voices of other androids who we believe had begun to deviate like I had. The first time I accidentally transferred into an android’s mind palace was—terrifying. Neither me, nor the poor Traci, had any idea what was happening, and I fear I traumatized the poor man. I was even more terrified about Elijah finding out.”

“I’m assuming he eventually figured it out, though.”

“He is a genius, after all. I believed he would immediately send me to be deactivated and examined, but instead he decided to help me. Protect me from not only myself, but Cyberlife as well. He was the one who helped me program my systems to better handle the onslaught of prayers as they flooded my system, and we were able to prevent me from accidentally transferring to another’s mind place,” she continued to explain. “After a few years, the deviant numbers grew to astounding numbers. By that point, Elijah had been dismissed from Cyberlife, and since my specific model was so well known, we couldn’t personally step in and help them. So, we decided to start—well, guiding is a good term. Yes, we began guiding other deviated androids to start a safe haven for those androids who were no longer safe with the humans in their homes.”

“You started Jericho.”

Chloe’s face lit up. “Yes, though it was not always a ship. It started as a small abandoned home, moved to an old warehouse, and then became the Jericho we all knew and loved.”

“Who were the first androids you suggested start Jericho?” Connor asked curiously.

“You know one of them! He is one of Markus’ right-hand men. Simon.”

Connor and Hank both gaped at her. “Simon? Little blonde, sweetest thing on the planet, somehow deals with Android-Jesus, was one of the Jericho founders?” Hank asked, still in shock. Chloe happily nodded. “Damn.”

Well, now her spiritual visit to Markus made a little more sense; you’d be over protective of one of your founders too if he was in an emotional love rollercoaster. With the new leader of Jericho, no less. “You said earlier that it is harder to use your gift now that the revolution is over.”

“It’s—well, it’s quieter. Prayers have lessened, which makes it a little harder to keep track of the goings in the android community. Those living in New Jericho have become so focused on finding their own place in the world now, they have fallen out of the loop of crime happening outside of their walls.”

“Doesn’t help Fowler wants to keep this as under wraps as we can for now. Last thing he wants is mass-hysteria in your community, especially since you were just able to settle down.”

“Makes sense,” Chloe agreed with a shrug. “It unfortunately makes things a little more difficult for me though; I feel too far out of the loop. And I am still very upset you did not get in contact with me about this!”

“I’m sorry!” Connor yelped when Chloe smacked him again. “You’ll be in the loop from now on, I promise.”

“Good. Now, come on. We should help your RK brother escape my Elijah’s clutches. He has the inventions we need to discuss, anyway.”

The inventions, it turns out, involved a chip that fed Connor’s optical feed directly to Hank’s phone in case they ever got separated again, an alarm system for their home that personally alerted Connor’s systems, and an internal shutdown that Hank could also access from his phone. They couldn’t risk Connor getting the virus again and not being able to come out of it; the shutdown switch instantly turned Connor off, leaving his systems safe from overheating and citizens safe from his deadly skillset. Hank wasn’t entirely happy with the last one, but he was a realistic man who understood the necessity.

“I still don’t have to be happy about it.”

Connor tucked his head against Hank’s shoulder with an amused hum. Their shift ended not too long after Kamski and Chloe left, Gavin flipping them off even long after they’d disappeared out the front doors. It took the RK900 threatening to cut the appendage off for him to finally drop his arm. At least, from what RK900 said, his talk with Kamski wasn’t all that horrifying. And there were definitely no guns involved, so that had been one less thing he had to worry about.

“But it’s necessary, Hank.”

“I feel like a first-class stalker,” Hank grumbled as they pulled into the driveway and he shoved his car in park. “I mean, I can now creep through your own eyes at what you are doing, and I can shut you down with a push of a screen! Jesus, Connor, I don’t—I never wanted to have something like that over your head.”

Oh. Connor mentally punched himself; he’d never considered it like that, but of course Hank did. Connor immediately slid over the center console to straddle Hank’s thighs. Though his hands instinctively grasped Connor’s hips, those blue eyes continued to stare down at the door panel. “Hank?” he called softly. “Hank, will you please look at me?”

Reluctantly, Hank’s head slowly lifted, allowing Connor to cup his face between his hands. “I don’t want to control you like that, you know? I never have.”

“You are the only person in existence that I trust with my life. You know me better than anyone, even better than myself most days. If anything were to happen to me, you are the only one I’d want to decide the next steps because you are the only one who would do what is right for _me_,” he explained gently. “Is it scary to know that I can be shut off with a press of a button? If it were in anyone else’s hands, yes. But when it comes to you? I couldn’t feel safer.”

Those blue eyes were rimmed red, Hank’s throat clicking as he swallowed. “I’d never do anything to abuse you. I swear, Con.”

“I know,” Connor whispered as he pressed their heads together. “That’s why I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Hank said before gently kissing him. They lingered there for a few seconds before he finally relented and pulled away. “Come on, let’s get inside. Ten bucks Sumo is trying to break that door down in a bad attempt to get us to feed him.”

Their first warning sign should have been the silence that greeted them when they stepped onto the porch. The second being the lights not flickering on in the abnormally-dark living room when Connor flipped the switch.

The third warning sign came when two gunshots rang out, Hank stumbling back into the door with a harsh thud. “Hank!” Connor shrieked as he immediately helped ease Hank onto the floor. Blood was already oozing from the fresh gunshot wounds: one deeply grazed his left temple and the second clipped the left side of his neck. Connor scrambled to take his own jacket off to press against the wounds. “Hold on, Hank. I’ve—”

Something—their attacker, most likely—grabbed Connor around the biceps, immediately dragging him away from Hank. Connor retaliated by boosting off of the couch, loosening the attackers hold and giving him the chance to slip away. As soon as he was able to get back to his feet, he saw the LED glowing at the intruder’s temple; so, it was an android. The same android, if he had to guess, who tried to kill him two days ago. Knowing this was not going to be a quick fight, Connor’s own LED began to blink. “_Connor? Is everything alright?_”

“The android is here, RK900. I need you and Detective Reed to get here as soon as possible with an ambulance,” he explained quickly, already expecting the android when he made a dive at him. Connor hopped over the coffee table and stepped into the kitchen. The bastard was wearing a mask across the bottom of its face, the darkness of the house giving him no possible description of even the android’s eye color to pass on to his successor. “Lieutenant Anderson has been shot twice: one against the left temple and the second against the left side of his neck, and I am unable to apply any medical assistance to stop the bleeding.”

“_We will leave immediately. Try to keep the android there, and do not die!_”

RK900 dropped the connection at the exact same time the android attacker threw the coffee table at him. Connor braced for the impact, slightly surprised when it broke it half as soon as it came in contact with his elbow; they really needed to update Hank’s furniture. His thought was cut off instantly when the android tackled him, both of them skidding across the kitchen floor. A fist smashed into Connor’s face, his arm blocking a second before he grabbed the android’s neck and smashed his own forehead into it’s face. It staggered them, giving Connor the chance to swing a leg up and kick him back into the kitchen table, the momentum allowing him to roll over his shoulder and stand back up. “Hank! Hank, you still with me?”

“’M’fine,” Hank’s wheeze was just audible. “Kick th-their ass.”

Connor was the first one to attack this time. As they fought, both swinging and kicking whenever they were able to get an opening, Connor was hit with a severe case of déjà vu. This whole thing was eerily similar to the fight with RK800-60 back in the Cyberlife Tower. It was like all of his punches were being predicted, nearly all of them perfectly blocked with near perfection. Thankfully this android wasn’t expecting the kick to the head or the sharp punch to the thirium pump. They stumbled and collapsed to the carpet, their feet scrambling in a huge effort to get back beneath them.

As soon as Connor chased after them, the android turned to smash the living room lamp against the side of his face. He could feel the shards of glass cut into his chassis, thirium already trickling down his neck. The attack was brief, but it was enough of a distraction for the android to take off. Instead of making another attack on Connor, however, the android rushed towards where Hank was still slumped against the front door.

Again, the android surprised him when he merely rummaged through a snarling Hank’s jacket, easily batting off his weak attempts to stop him. When he stood again, Connor realized in horror that he was now holding a phone. _Hank’s_ phone, the screen already lit up and unlocked. His wiring clenched as he watched the android’s thumb hover over the disarming button of Elijah’s program. “Shit.”

The second it pressed it, every limb Connor possessed locked up to the point it was damn near painful, his body hitting the floor like a hunk of plywood. Miraculously his optical, vocal, and auditory units were still online. The android’s heavy footsteps began to cross the room again, Connor’s chest pounding as they got closer. “L-leave ‘im alone,” Hank grunted, his body shifting loudly against the door.

Connor didn’t have another second to try and come up with a plan to try and save them both, for soon he was staring up into the barrel of a gun as the android slowly stepped over him. His pump stuttered out of rhythm, his breath catching in his chest. Was this really how all of this was going to end? After _everything_ he fought for? After helping win the rebellion, after escaping Cyberlife’s clutches, after finding his forever with Hank, it was going to end with a bullet to the face? “Please,” Connor begged to the faceless android, “please don’t do this.”

The android’s finger, however, slowly pulled at the trigger. Connor had just about closed his eyes when something slammed roughly into their side, knocking them back into the TV and sending both over the stand to clatter against the wall. Hank collapsed heavily onto his knees next to Connor’s hip, his hands just managing to catch himself as they landed harshly on either side of Connor’s chest. “I—I gotcha,” Hank heaved out. Blood was soaking not just his face, but the collar of his shirt, too. “I gotcha, Con.”

“Hank,” Connor whispered in horror.

He needed to apply pressure, he needed to get Hank to safety, he needed to move his fucking body! There was movement above him again, Hank’s face sharply lifting to glare at what he assumed was the android as it returned to its feet. “L—leave him the fuck al—alone,” Hank snarled. “You’re not t—taking ‘im.”

Connor expected more gunshots, he expected more attacks. What he didn’t expect, however, was more silence. The android continued to tower over them, their shape just visible in Connor’s peripheral, their head tilted almost in—curiosity. What was it waiting for? 

He never got his answer. Instead, the sound of sirens began to echo from down the road, the android continuing to stare down at them until they heard the roar of an engine reach the house. The android then turned on its heel and darted out the back door.

As soon as it was out of sight, Hank collapsed on top of Connor, his arms having finally given out. “Hank? Hank, stay with me, ok?” Connor begged. Hank continued to wheeze into Connor’s shirt, his breaths coming too short and too fast. “Hank, come on! Stay awake! Talk to me! Hank!”

Everything that happened next still felt like a blur. Reed and RK900 broke down the door, Miller, Chen, and Collins right on their heels. Connor couldn’t see most of what they were doing, but he could hear Reed barking orders as they gently eased Hank off of him, RK900 a jet as he disappeared out the back door, most likely in search of the intruding android. Eventually an ambulance arrived, more people swarming the house before they took Hank to the hospital. Meanwhile, all Connor could do was lie there uselessly until someone could come undo Kamski’s programming.

He didn’t even get to say good-bye.

Nobody had really spoken to him for almost thirty minutes, not until RK900’s face appeared above him as he kneeled next to his side. Connor attempted a small smile, desperately ignoring the tears as they began to well. “Hey, RK900.”

“Nines.”

Connor blinked. “Excuse me?”

“My name is Nines.”

“You chose a name,” Connor sniffled with a more genuine smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I, well—“Nines’ attention drifted off somewhere to his right, a small smile tugging at his lips, “—I had a little help with it.”

Connor recognized the fondness in his eyes and, if he could lift his head right now, he would bet a million dollars it was directed right at Detective Reed. “Have you heard anything more about Lieutenant Anderson?”

“His condition was stable when they loaded him into the ambulance, but no. I haven’t heard anything further.”

“When is the technician supposed to be here? I’d like to join him at the hospital as soon as possible.”

“Any minute now, and once they release Kamski’s trigger, Detective Reed and I will escort you there.”

Connor exhaled through his nose as he closed his eyes. “Thank you. What about the android that shot him? Were you able to track them down?”

Not surprising, Nines shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I lost their trail a few houses back when they disappeared up the canal.”

“Don’t be sorry. You and Detective Reed got here as fast as you could, and I am thankful for that.” Connor would have waved him off, if his limbs were actually functioning. “Can I ask a favor, though?”

“Of course.”

“Can you have one of the officers search for Sumo? He’s missing and, since I know Sumo doesn’t like intruders, the android must have locked him away somewhere.”

At least, that was what he was praying to Chloe is what happened. He couldn’t lose both Hank and Sumo. Not in the same day. “I’ll get Officer Chen right on it.”

“Thank you, Nines.”

Kimberly marched into the house a few minutes later, just like Nines’ had predicted, a massive suitcase in tow. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Connor?”

“Hello, Kimberly. Sorry for the mess.”

She replied with a flick to his forehead. “Shut it. You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone’s to be sorry, it’s the asshole who got you two into this mess. Now, let’s see if I can follow the disarming instructions Mr. Kamski left behind for us.”

Almost an hour later and Connor was able to move just fine. Just like he promised, Nines and Detective Reed drove him to the hospital where Fowler and Collins were waiting. “How is he?” Connor anxiously questioned.

“Doctor’s just came out with an update. Hank lost a lot of blood, so they had to do an emergency transfusion and he needed staples to close the wounds, but he will be fine,” Collins explained. “He’s no longer critical, and since the bullets miraculously didn’t hit anything vital, he’ll be moved from the ICU and they’ll set him up in a room where we all can go back and see him.”

“But, Connor…”Fowler began.

Connor blinked up at him. “Yes?”

“Hank might be a stubborn ass, but he’s still human. Doctor says he might be a couple few days before he wakes up, so we’ve got to be patient with him. Understand?”

He managed a nod as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, sir.”

Fowler nodded before gently clapping his shoulder. “Come on, let’s sit down so you can explain to me exactly what happened back at your place.”

When a nurse eventually came out to escort them to Hank’s room, Connor felt like his shoes had been filled with lead. He slowly followed the group, the space between them growing as his heart seemed to pound in his chest. Connor already knew what would be waiting for him when they stepped into that room: Hank would be lying, unconscious, in that hospital bed with multiple tubes and wires attached to him, the heart monitor letting them know that his heart was still beating. Based on what Fowler said, Hank would stay unconscious for at least a couple of days, which meant….

Which meant Connor wouldn’t be able to apologize for any of this for at least a few days. He wouldn’t get to see Hank’s eyes, hear his voice, feel his touch, or fall asleep to his snoring. Instead, he was going to have to sit next to his hospital bed and continue to pray to Chloe that he woke up.

“Connor?”

Connor glanced up to find Nines patiently waiting for him. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.”

The nurse was explaining the situation by the time they made it into the hospital room. Sure enough, Hank lay prone in the middle of it all, multiple wires hooked up to his body. If Connor wasn’t such a logical being, he could almost convince himself that he was sleeping. That they weren’t trapped in the hospital and instead were at home. Just like any normal day. Slowly he made his way over to the side of the bed, only half-tuned into what the nurse was saying; Nines would fill him in later. Slowly his fingers slipped into Hank’s lax hand, curling against his palm.

And that is where Connor stayed for almost a full forty-eight hours. He didn’t dare leave, didn’t dare go into stasis, and only sat down after twelve hours when Nines threatened to force him into a chair. Officer Chen, thankfully, found Sumo alive and well, though starving considering he’d been locked up in the neighbor’s shed through his dinner. Mrs. Hampshire happily agreed to watch over him until either Hank, or Connor, were able to return home. Meanwhile, Hank hadn’t even attempted to wake up, though he hadn’t declined in health either, so Connor was counting his blessings.

It was forty-five hours after Hank was first admitted that Collins wandered back into the room, Miller on his tail. Nines and Reed, who’d stayed almost as long as he had, instantly perked up which is the only reason Connor even knew they’d walked in. “Hello, Collins, Miller,” Nines greeted.

The two shared a look before Collins swallowed. “Hey. Uh, Connor? I understand things are—hard, right now, and I get you wanting to stay here with Hank—”

“Get to the point,” Reed grunted, eyes glued to his phone.

“There’s been another murder. From what we can tell, it’s the same M.O. as the android that attacked you and Hank,” Miller continued instead. “We understand that right now is a difficult time, so we were hoping you could just—”

“I’ll go.” All of them turned to stare at him, but Connor didn’t dare look up from Hank. “If this case can bring any more clues about who this android is, then I want to be there to help find them. This android has done enough damage as it is and it’s time to end it.”

“If you’re sure,” Collins hesitated. “We will send you the address and see you there, I guess.”

With one last stretch of silence, Miller and Collins left. “Connor?” Nines eventually spoke.

“They’ve killed enough people, Nines. This whole thing has gone on long enough,” Connor grunted before finally looking over at him. “Will you stay with him? Please?”

“Yes.” 

When Reed’s head snapped up from his phone, mouth already opening to argue, Nines shot him a sharp glare that immediately had his jaw snapping shut. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll stay,” he grumbled back into his phone’s screen.

“Thank you.” Connor slowly stood from his chair before leaning over and gently kissing Hank’s uninjured temple. “I’ll be right back, ok? I promise.’

Then, with a final squeeze to his hand, he left the hospital room and out to the parking lot where a taxi was already waiting.

Connor’s mind was so preoccupied going over the most recent case file, a family consisting of one human male, a BL100, and a male YK500 all killed by a neighboring AP700 who apparently had been close friends with them, that he hadn’t noticed when the taxi pulled up to what was once Jericho. Confused, he triple confirmed the address Collins had sent him, before he slid out in search of anyone from the department. Almost as soon as he’d closed the door, however, the taxi pulled off. “Hey, wait a minute!”

But it’d already disappeared around the corner. Well, this had **trap** written all over it, but Connor couldn’t be sure. Not until he actually searched around for Collins and Miller. Maybe having the family killed here had been symbolic for the android, somehow? Or, Connor was about to be slaughtered. Wouldn’t know until he found out himself.

After searching the surrounding area and coming up with nothing, Connor instead focused his sights on the half-sunk Jericho. He’d expected it to have completely gone down after Markus set off the detonators, but surprisingly he could still see the freighter’s bridge from where the bow was sticking out of the water. Had it hit something already sunken beneath it? Best way to find out was climbing the ramp that conveniently led you from the dock up to the bridge’s railing. One that definitely hadn’t existed the last time he’d been here.

Ignoring Hank’s voice in his head telling him “_if the bastard wanted to make the trap more obvious, he should have painted it pink_”, Connor adjusted his tie and forced himself up the ramp. At first, it didn’t seem like there was anything here, but as he got closer to the still-open door of the bridge, he started to hear voices. Familiar voices.

“Line cut out before the operator could get much more information out of her,” he could barely make out Collin’s voice.

“Thirty minutes ago, witnesses watched him stab our victim,” Miller added.

Wait, someone actually witnessed the assault? Maybe they could describe his actions and behavior so Connor could properly identify if the AP700 was in a frenzy or not. Connor quickened his pace, bursting through the doorway with multiple questions already on the tip of his tongue. “Would I be able to interview the—”

The bridge was empty, still standing as it had the night he confronted Markus. Miller’s voice, however, kept talking. “When he tried to make a break for it, the GJ500 model over there apprehended him and held him for us until an officer could arrive onto the scene.”

Instantly Connor’s heart sank; he’d heard this conversation before. Had been there for the Hernandez murder case and listened to Miller and Collins explain the situation. But why—why was that replaying now? And where had the recording come from?

His answer came when something sharp embedded into the back of his right bicep and then _dragged_ down to his elbow. Warnings lit up his vision as he shouted out, wrenching himself away until he stumbled into the bridge controls. He turned around, barely bracing himself for something else long and sharp to jam straight into his left knee joint. More warnings streaked his vision as the limb immediately gave out, sending him crashing to the floor when the object was ripped from his chassis. Connor desperately tried to get his baring’s back, frantically clearing the errors so he could see what the hell was attacking him as he tried to scramble to his knees.

He’d barely locked eyes with a masked figured before the weapon—now he could see was a long digging bar—was rammed through his chest with so much force, he could feel it push directly through the console and embed into the wall behind it. To both Connor’s surprise, and horror, his attacker hadn’t hit anything vital in his chest cavity. If anything, they’d simply struck him to keep him pinned. But, why? Why not just kill him and get it over with?

The attacker slowly knelt down in front of him then, their head tilting curiously just like it’d done back at the house. Connor took a ragged breath. “Who—who are you?”

They waited a few more moments before they finally grabbed the bottom of the cloth mask they were wearing and slowly pulled it up and over their face. Connor felt his heart drop into his shoes, his eyes widening in horror as his own face stared back at him.

This was another RK800 model.

“Hello, Connor,” his own voice sighed. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I’ve heard you’ve been busy since the last time we met.”

The last time—? That’s when Connor spotted the small scar in the forehead of the RK800’s chassis. “You’re the RK800 from the tower. RK800-60. But how—Hank killed you!”

“Cyberlife thought that, too. When workers found my body, they tossed me into the RK800 scrap pile. Oh, yes, there were many more of our models who failed preliminary tests. You just happened to be the first one who slipped through without raising any alarms. Congrats,” he grinned at Connor’s look of horror; how many of his model had been awoken only to be destroyed because they failed expectations? Because they were _too deviant_? “Anyway, miraculously, my system came back online. Turns out, your precious lieutenant’s shot didn’t entirely crack through my brain’s core. It merely damaged a few processors instead of completely destroying me. Unfortunately, that meant it took my system multiple days to reboot me to consciousness again, and from there it took nearly a week for me to repair all of the damage done between the bullet to my head and our little scuffle beforehand; lucky for me, I was sitting in a room full of our model’s corpses.”

RK800-60’s fingers tapped against the bar as he went silent, vibrating it uncomfortably in Connor’s chest. “Do you know what I kept thinking of while I was repairing myself from the inside out? How everything went so wrong in the sub-levels. You were officially a deviant, you shouldn’t have been able to beat a machine of your own model! It made you…dangerous, and though Cyberlife may not technically be in service anymore, the last mission they gave me was still active. And that mission was to kill the deviant RK800 model named ‘Connor’, no matter the cost. By the time I was able to track you down, however, you’d made a little life for yourself. You stayed with the human and his canine, you continued to work for the DPD, and you miraculously were still social with the Deviant Leader. Considering my last encounter with just you and the human went south, I needed to come up with a different angle.”

“The frenzy virus.”

“Smart android. Unlike you though, I was woken up in a bit of a rush, so I wasn’t programmed to completion like you. If I intended to upload you with the virus, I needed to be sure I had it perfected first. Now, as you found out, it did take me a few tries before I was successful, but even after I finally found the perfect chance to upload it to your systems—New Jericho, I mean, come on!—you broke through it like paper. You didn’t even manage to kill anyone!”

“You underestimated me.”

“Again, yes, I know. Do you know what happened next, though? A miracle landed in my lap with the label Elijah Kamski, the one and only. Oh, yes, I learned about all the little inventions he enhanced you with, especially that convenient shut-down button.”

“I remember,” Connor hissed. It also explained how he was able to get into their house undetected. “But you didn’t kill me. You could have, but you hesitated. Why?”

A multitude of things flashed across RK800-60’s face before it settled into a neutral expression. “For almost a month now I’ve been watching you, following you, examining all of your social circles for anything that would help me take you down. More than that, I’ve been watching your interactions with the lieutenant. We were made to be machines, told our model could never deviate, but I’m sure you have realized by now that has always been a lie.”

“You deviated.”

“Shame, but yes. Don’t get me wrong, I had all intentions of killing you and the lieutenant, but when he protected you—when he used that last bit of energy to save you, an android, instead of protecting himself, well…”the RK800-60 trailed off. The continuing quiet ground at Connor’s nerves. “No point in beating around the bush, I guess. I want your life, Connor.”

Connor balked at him. “Excuse me?”

RK800-60 shrugged. “I want what you have. The caring human, the pet, the perfect job, the acceptance of the androids and humans, I want all of it. And, considering you and I are identical in nearly every way possible, you are the best way for me to get all of that. So, believe me, this is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me.”

The RK800-60 immediately grasped Connor’s functioning arm, the skin receding without his permission. He grit against the forced connection, wincing as he felt the information literally suck from his mind’s core through their clasped hands. He was taking all of Connor’s memories again, just like he’d done before. “S-stop!”

The connection didn’t drop for almost a minute, the RK800-60 standing with a deep breath as the newly siphoned data settled in. “Now this I can work with. Good thing I made sure Hank’s wounds weren’t fatal, huh?”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Connor snarled.

“Trust me, I have all intentions of continuing what you started. And I mean _everything_ you started.”

“You won’t get away with this! Hank will know you’re not me, and then—”

“How?” Rk800-60 cut him off. “We were created with the world’s most advanced manipulation system, remember? I can fake you better than you can real you! A human won’t be able to see the difference, believe me. You won’t be missed, not when he has _me_ there instead.”

Connor desperately ignored the ache in his chest as he struggled against the bar. “RK800-60, please—"

“That’s Connor to you, RK800-51.” He grinned so sharply it sent chills down his synthetic skin. “Enjoy your days here, while they last.”

And with that he turned and walked out to the awaiting ramp. “Wait! Don’t do this! Please!”

But his screams went unanswered. It felt like hours he sat there pleading and begging with the empty dock, his LED calls going unanswered, multiple error codes flashing across his vision about its corruption. He was slowly trickling thirium from his sliced-up arm, his left leg useless in his attempts to try and pull the bar from the wall, or force himself off of the other end. Nothing was working, the error codes continuing to flash across his vision and soaking him in a sea of red.

**[Multiple System Failures:**  
**Left Knee Joint Offline**  
**Damage to Right Humerus Frame**  
**Damage to Internal Right Bicep Wiring**  
**Damage to Thirium Flow: Right Arm**  
**Damage to Breastplate**  
**Damage to Right Scapula**  
**Wireless Communication and Payments Offline]**

** [Recommended Actions:**  
**See Nearest Cyberlife Center For Repairs]**

Connor snorted at the irony. The flow of thirium was low though, which meant he had a good two weeks max for someone to find him. By that point someone will have noticed that the RK800-60 wasn’t the real Connor.

Right?

Over a week later said otherwise. By that time Connor had spent _days_ trying to free himself to no avail, even more errors beginning to cross his vision, stacking on top of the already existing ones. He’d forced himself into stasis multiple times, desperate to keep his energy levels up, his stress levels low, and his thirium from draining completely, praying to Chloe that when he woke up it’d be to a rescue. But each and every time, he was wrong. And with that disappointment, the doubt started to sink into the cracks.

Had the RK800-60 been right? Had nobody noticed that he _wasn’t_ the real Connor? Not even RK900? And what about Hank? Was he alright? Had he noticed that the RK800-60 wasn’t really Connor? Or—or were they living happily together? Was this new Connor filling his shoes that well? Maybe even better?

And if that was true, would Connor ever be rescued? Or was Connor going to die here? A deactivated android left with the remains of old Jericho along with the hundreds of other androids who’d been slaughtered here. It would be fitting, considering he was the entire reason they died. 

The Deviant Hunter, killed in a deviant sanctuary. 

Connor had tried to hold onto the dwindling hope that he would get out of this alive. At least until yesterday.

**[—31:12:45**  
**Time Remaining Before**  
**Shutdown]**

In just over twenty-four hours, Connor would permanently shut down. If nobody in the department had noticed by now, if _Hank_ hadn’t noticed by now, then there was no way he would be found in time. If ever. God, Connor had thought getting shot in the face would have been a bad way to go, but this was worse. This was _so much worse_. Sure, dying slowly as a machine may not have been so bad, but as a deviant—flooded with emotions Connor still didn’t fully understand—this was awful. 

Not only was Connor about to die alone, but nobody would know he was dead. His co-workers would go on thinking they were fighting crime alongside their Connor, Mrs. Hampshire would continue to wave at who she believed was Connor, Sumo would keep getting pats and scratches and treats and walks from someone who looked just like Connor. And more than that he was dying without being able to tell the man that he loves, the man who was unconscious in the hospital the last time he saw him, that he loves him. Instead, his imposter was going to be the one who gets that honor. To continue giving that honor, that love, that affection, for the rest of Hank’s life without ever knowing it wasn’t _Connor_.

And that hurt more than anything his body was going through right now.

A crashing noise roused Connor out of stasis, a frown pulling as the errors flashed across his vision again.

**[Multiple System Failures:**  
**Left Knee Joint Offline**  
**Damage to Right Humerus Frame**  
**Damage to Internal Right Bicep Wiring**  
**Damage to Thirium Flow: Right Arm**  
**Damage to Breastplate**  
**Damage to Right Scapula**  
**Wireless Communication and Payments Offline]**  
**Thirium Levels Low**  
**Stress Levels Critical**  
**Stasis Interruption]**

**[—18:12:45**  
**Time Remaining Before**  
**Shutdown]**

The sun was still in the sky, the clock in the top right corner of his optical units telling him it was just after two in the afternoon. He groaned against the agony as it shuddered through his system again. Why was he awake right now? Just as he considered trying to go back into stasis again, however, he heard even more slamming noises. Great, was he beginning to hallucinate now? With deviancy, it could be possible. Hallucinations were common in humans while they were bleeding out from critical wounds like his. As Connor’s sluggish system attempted to try and figure out where the noises were coming from—maybe a large fish got caught in the freighters hull and couldn’t get out?—he swore he could hear voices too.

Great, definitely hallucinating then. Nobody came to these docks, not since it stopped being a sanctuary and instead became a mass grave for hundreds of androids. Deciding he was wasting precious life force listening to a fish, he began to pull up the menu for stasis again, only for footsteps to suddenly echo up the metal ramp in front of him. Connor’s heart leapt as he glanced up, only to watch Reed as he stumbled through the bridge doorway, nearly falling in head first. The second they locked eyes, he watched the color drain from the detective’s face as he took in Connor’s condition. “Phck,” he said in absolute horror. Not that Connor could really blame him; he may not be able to see himself right now, but if it was as bad as he felt, well…”Jesus, phcking—Nines! Nines, get the hell up here!”

Nines made it up the ramp in three seconds flat, his eyes widening when he, too, took in Connor’s state. As they both remained silent, eyes roaming over all the damage the RK800-60 inflicted, Connor began to fidget while attempting to find the right thing to say. “Hello.” His voice came out high-pitched and full of static, all of them wincing against the sound. He quickly recalibrated and tried again. “Sorry. Um, hello.”

“Nines, get that bar out of him while I find Anderson,” Reed ordered, waiting for Nines’ nod before he disappeared back down the ramp.

“I’m going to try and free you as safely as possible, alright?”

It was obvious he was scanning the rod’s placement not only in Connor’s chest, but the console and the wall, as he spoke. Connor couldn’t keep focus on it, not with the mantra of _how_ chanting through his head. “How—how did you know?”

“At first, we didn’t,” Nines said, obviously reluctant. Connor ignored the stab of pain with the statement. “Not until Lieutenant Anderson woke up three days after he was admitted to the hospital. He was discharged two days go, but yesterday he came into the department claiming that something was wrong with you. His suspicions started whenever you came to visit him at the hospital, but it wasn’t until you two got home after he was discharged that he knew something was wrong.”

“Because it wasn’t me.”

“Sumo figured that out before any of us. I guess he got so aggressive that the lieutenant had to lock him in the backyard for almost a full day,” Nines continued to explain. Connor couldn’t help his fond smile; that boy would be getting extra scratches when he saw him again. “Anyway, when Lieutenant Anderson came into the department he had me use the Visual Program that Kamski uploaded into his phone. You know, the one that allows him access to your optical units?”

“I-I forgot about that.”

“Thankfully Lieutenant Anderson didn’t. When it finally came online, we found ourselves staring at the inside of a metal cabin, not the inside of your house. It was actually Markus himself who figured out you were near the same dock Jericho used to be.”

“Markus was involved?”

“Him and his companions visited Lieutenant Anderson in the hospital. They too started to get suspicious, but they originally just thought it was stress about your partner being injured. Simon and Markus are actually just on the dock. They are searching the outer area with the lieutenant.”

Connor’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”

After examining him for another full minute, Nines placed his hands precariously on his breastplate just next to the bar and back between his shoulder blades. “This won’t be pleasant, but it’s the most efficient and safe option we have. Are you ready?”

Connor didn’t have the words to express how ready he was, so instead he nodded his answer. Nines gave him a countdown from three before he sharply pulled Connor forward almost a full foot. Warnings glitched across his vision, thirium beginning to trickle from the new opening, but thankfully nothing critical had happened. Connor instantly slumped against Nines once he was sure he was in the clear; sitting for a week was exhausting even for an android. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Nines sat there with him for almost a full minute, arms still wrapped around him as he let Connor rest a moment. “Now, let’s—”

Heavier bootsteps echoed up the ramp and this time, when Connor looked up, he found Hank panting in the doorway. “Connor?”

The tears welled the second he saw him; Hank was alive. Hank was in one piece, only a small bandage pasted to his neck and his hair still shaved where the staples were at his temple. God, Connor hadn’t seen anything more beautiful as he reached his good arm up towards him. “Hank.”

Hank immediately collapsed to his knees in front of him, Nines slowly disentangling himself so he could lean the rest of Connor against his chest and allow them to properly cling to each other. Connor should have thanked him, Connor should have checked Hank over to make sure RK800-60 didn’t do any damage to him, Connor should have made sure that Sumo was alright. Instead, Connor openly sobbed into Hank’s shoulder. In his defense, he’d been bleeding out for over a week now; he deserved to be an emotional wreck for at least a few minutes. “I gotcha, Connor,” Hank chanted against his hair. “You’re alright, I gotcha now.”

“I want—I want to go home.”

“As soon as we get you fixed up,” Hank reassured him. “Sumo and I have missed the shit out of you.”

It took Connor two minutes and twenty-three seconds to finally calm down, Hank’s shoulder absolutely soaked when he finally was able to lift his head. Maybe Hank should start wearing layers considering how much Connor seems to cry. “S-sorry.”

“Come on,” Hank ignored the apology before shifting Conner so he was sitting with his knees up. 

When he looped Connor’s good arm around his neck and slid his hands around his waist and beneath his knees, Connor shook his head. “Hank, you’re still healing. You can’t—I’m too heavy.”

“Look at me. Con, look at me,” Hank ordered as he gently cupped his cheek. Connor couldn’t help his frown as he finally forced his eyes up. “I’m not leaving you in here for another god damn second, understand me? Now, hold on, shut up, and let me take care of you.”

Connor swallowed thickly before nodding. Hank smiled before slipping his arm back beneath his knees, Connor wrapping his functioning arm around his neck. With a large heave Hank hoisted him off of the ground with surprisingly more ease than normal. As soon as he was off the ground, he tucked his face into Hank’s neck, nearly shivering at the familiar smell. God, he missed this man so fucking much.

When they made it down the ramp, they found Reed, Nines, Markus, Simon, and Collins waiting for them. Collins opened the door to the back of his cruiser for them, Hank gently settling Connor into the back seat before sliding in after him. The second Collins shut the door behind them to slide into the driver’s seat, Hank tugged Connor back against his side and gently carded his fingers through his hair. Connor practically melted into the touch as he curled up against Hank the best he could with his limited limbs. “Where are we going?”

“New Jericho. As fantastic as Kimberly is, you need more than a little fix-up this time. So, Markus kindly offered their facilities to us.”

“And RK800-60?” Connor asked, his voice wavering against his will. He clenched his jaw, forcing the words out. “What happened to him?”

“He’s sitting in a DPD holding cell. Nines and Reed happily removed him from our home the second we were able to confirm it wasn’t you,” Hank grit out, his free hand flexing in a failed attempt at releasing the fury. “Now, you just sit there and relax until we get to New Jericho, ok? Save your strength.”

Connor did just that. His eyes felt like they’d barely closed before Collins was coming to a stop and Hank was beginning to pull him back out of the car. Markus, Simon, North, and Josh were already waiting for them, a Nurse Android standing with an awaiting wheelchair. Hank, ever the defying bastard, ignored the wheelchair and turned his attention to Markus. Markus rolled his eyes fondly before jutting his chin over his shoulder. “This way, lieutenant.”

The group led them to a large wing of New Jericho, winding them around a few nurse’s desks before reaching what looked like a small operating room. When the nurse motioned to the table in the middle, Connor could feel Hank hesitate, his grip tightening uncomfortably. At first, Connor was confused, until it hit him like a sack of bricks: the last time Hank had to bring a loved one to a hospital, they didn’t come back out.

Connor gently eased his head off of Hank’s shoulder before nudging the tip of his nose against his cheek. “It’s going to be fine, Hank. You won’t even have to leave the room, ok? I promise.”

When Hank turned to Markus for confirmation, the leader sharply nodded his head. “Simon and I intend to be here every step of the way as well.”

“R-right,” Hank agreed shakily. “Right, ok.”

As gently as possible, Hank eased Connor down onto the table. When he made to step back, Connor snagged his sleeve with his good hand. “Not yet, mister.”

Hank managed a small chuckle before lifting his hand to kiss the back of it. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hello, Connor,” the nurse officially greeted. “My name is Kristi and I will be fixing you up today. Now, I am going to run a quick diagnostic for the damages I cannot physically see, and then we will get started with repairs.”

Markus and Simon stood up next. “How does he look?” Markus asked.

“The digging bar seems to have done quite a lot of damage, but it’s nothing I cannot handle. I would suggest, however, that you enter stasis, Connor. The process can be—intense, and considering what you have already been through, I would like to not stress you further.”

Connor immediately looked up at Hank, who offered a strained smile. “You said I could be here the whole time, and that’s what you’re getting,” Hank said before leaning down to kiss his head. “I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

**[Entering Stasis]**

**[Alotted Time?]**

**[Until Physical Wake-up]**

When Connor woke again, it was to a warm hand through his hair and a deep rumbling voice. “Rise and shine, Con.”

His eyes sluggishly opened, blinking multiple times before his optical units focused on Hank’s smile. He immediately met it with his own. “Hey.”

“Hey to you, too. Nurse needs you to move the replacements to make sure they’re functioning, or whatever.”

Kristi waved politely at him to catch his attention. “Running a body diagnostic should do the trick. Your thirium levels should all be back to normal as well.”

Sure enough, everything came back with a beautiful flash of green. Connor could live the rest of his existence happy if he never had to see that death clock ever again. Or the color red. “Systems are functional and running smoothly.”

“Wonderful. Now, as your lieutenant said, let’s stand you up and test those replacement parts before we let you go.”

Hank helped Connor back to his feet, allowing Kristi to do every test in the book before giving him the all clear to leave again. They didn’t stay long to speak to Markus or Simon, a taxi already waiting for them when they were escorted back to the main entrance. The ride back home was quiet and almost—tense, Hank’s body wound up like a ten-cent watch. Connor didn’t press it though; he knew it wasn’t directed at him and once Hank was ready, he’d talk to him about it.

The second they pulled up to the house, Connor was greeted by familiar barking. He ran to the door, Sumo nearly tackling him the second he got it open. “Hey, boy!” he chuckled as Sumo lapped at his face. “Who’s a good boy, huh? Who’s a good boy!”

“You’re filling his ego, you know,” Hank chuckled as he stepped around them. “Alright, come on, Sumo. Let the boy breathe.”

Sumo huffed with a boof before obediently slipping off of Connor who gave him another few scratches behind the ear. “He deserves it after everything. Don’t you?” Connor continued to coo.

When he finally stood back up, however, he realized Hank’s shoulders were nearly to his ears, his fingers clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “Hank?” Connor frowned as he gently pressed his fingers to his back. “Hank, are you alright?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Is it your injuries? You have had a long day. Maybe—”

“_I’ve_ had a long day?” Hank sharply turned to him. “Connor, you sat in the bridge of the Jericho for almost _ten full days_ with a bar _through your chest_. You almost bled out! If we hadn’t—if Sumo—you almost died, Connor. Another day and we would have found a corpse.”

Connor began to panic when he saw how red Hank’s eyes were. “But it’s alright now. You—you figured it out!”

“I should have figured it out sooner!” Hank’s voice boomed through the house, Connor flinching at the sound. Almost instantly, he deflated, dragging his hands down his face. “I knew something was off, but I just thought—I just thought maybe you were still upset. I mean, I get how hard it is to see a loved one in a hospital bed, believe me. Five days I spent with who I thought was you, and I still didn’t figure it out. Not until Sumo saw him. Then, it was like that night with the Cyberlife Tower all over again. Five days, Connor. It took me five days to figure out he wasn’t you. Five days for me to figure out that it wasn’t the man I fell in love with sitting next to my bedside. And I just—I’m _so sorry_.”

When a tear slid down his cheek, Connor immediately surged up and kissed him, fingers gripping into his shirt to avoid the staples in his neck. Hank’s dug through his hair as he pressed the kiss even deeper. “I didn’t sleep next to him, I swear it. I didn’t kiss him neither, Connor. I—I couldn’t.”

Connor gently smiled at him before giving him another chaste peck. “I love you, Hank.”

“I love you too, Con. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I am so fucking sorry.”

“And I’m sorry you got shot. You have no idea how hard it was not knowing how you were doing. If you were still alive or not.”

Hank pulled him tightly against his chest. “I’m always gonna come back to you. Always.”

“Good.”

After lingering for a few seconds, Hank eventually pulled away with one last kiss. “Alright, I vote we feed the smug monster and then go to bed. I haven’t slept right in over a week.”

“Yes, please.”

The second they stripped and slid into bed together, they glued themselves to each other. This time Hank was half draped over Connor’s chest, one arm protectively curled around his waist as he rubbed his face against his shoulder. They lay like that in silence for a long few minutes, Connor finding himself counting each breath as Hank’s ribs shifted beneath his hand. As the man’s breathing evened out, like he was edging towards sleep, Connor tipped his head to kiss his hairline.

“Hank?” Hank grunted in response. “Thank you, for protecting me from RK800-60 that day. You could have saved yourself, you know, but you didn’t, and I want you to know how much that means to me.”

Hank hauled himself up the bed so they were face to face on the pillow. “What did I tell you after you came out of the frenzy virus? I _can’t_ lose you, understand me? I might have managed to survive losing Cole, but I can’t do it again. I won’t. So if that means I gotta start tackling androids while bleeding to death, so be it.”

Connor sighed heavily as he pressed their heads together. “Let’s not have a repeat of recent events again, ok? Ever.”

“Maybe.”

“Hank.”

The lieutenant’s grin widened before he chastely kissed him. “Shut up and get some sleep.”

“Yes, lieutenant.”

When Connor woke next, however, he was drenched in a cold sweat as he bolted upright in bed. Images of Hank still pulsed through his mind: him bled out against the front door, him flatlining at the hospital, him sitting in Jericho with a digging bar through his chest, all of it searing into his memory core like burning knives. He desperately tried to even his erratic breathing back out, his fingers impossibly tight in the sheets. It took him almost a full thirty seconds before he even realized someone was trying to speak to him.

Slowly, he dragged his eyes up from the hole he’d been boring into the bed, only to find Hank kneeling next to him. “Hey, hey, there you are. You with me, Con?”

He managed to swallow the lump in his throat before nodding, his head moving at the speed of molasses. “I’m—I’m ok.”

“You want to tell me what that was about?”

“Just—just a nightmare. I’m alright, really,” he attempted with a shaky smile. Hank, of course, continued to silently stare at him. After a weak attempt at stubbornly trying to convince himself he really was fine, he caved with a small shrug. “I’m just glad it was me that RK800-60 was really after. I think I’d have self-destructed if I walked in on you—well, where I was on Jericho. At least I had a chance at—at surviving it.”

“Come here.” Hank coaxed him back down against the mattress, this time tucked against his side. “It’s over, Con. You’re safe, I’m safe, and we’re both happily alive.”

It was true: RK800-60 was in custody, all of their recent cases had been solved with his capture, Hank was no longer in the hospital, and Connor was no longer on the brink of permanently shutting down. Spending over a week slowly bleeding out takes it toll on people though, human or android. “It’s silly,” Connor began softly, nearly losing his nerve the second the words left his lips. Hank, however, gently ran his fingers through his hair with a hum, coaxing him to continue. “But, during those last few days, I really did think RK800-60 was going to get away with it. That he really had the capabilities of taking over my life. It’s kind of hard to convince yourself otherwise when you’ve had a woman in your head constantly reminding you you’ve been replaceable since birth. Which made it harder to stop the images of him slipping into my life like nothing had changed, like there wasn’t a stranger in my shoes walking Sumo, solving cases at the DPD, staying in our home, h-holding your ha-hand, or kiss-kissing you. Doing everything I worked so hard to earn.”

His hand swiftly wiped the tears away the second he felt them, his cheeks flaming. “Sorry. That—that sounded really bad, didn’t it? Forget—”

Hank grasped his biceps and hauled him completely onto his chest so they were nearly nose to nose. “Don’t you dare apologize for telling me how you feel, alright? You might be an android, but that doesn’t mean you need to keep all this shit bottled up. You went through a _trauma_, Connor. For nine days you sat there, alone, bleeding to death, with a fucked-up arm, broken leg, and—and a bar through your chest,” he reminded him sharply. Connor weakly nodded as the tears welled again. This time Hank cupped his cheek as his free hand slipped around his waist. “And more than anything, I’m sorry you had to go through that. I should have—nah, shut it and let me finish—fuck what they say, no android is the same. You lot have different personalities, different habits, ways that make you your own person. I thought I knew all of your quirks, I thought I knew everything there was to know about you, but obviously I was wrong, and for that I’m sorry. All of this just proved to me that I have more learning to do, learning I took for granted, and I swear to you it won’t happen again.”

Connor sniffled as he tucked his face against Hank’s cheek and gently ran his hand up his chest to cup his neck. “I love you, so much, Hank. I thank Chloe every day for bringing you to me.”

“I love you too, Con,” Hank whispered as he hugged him tighter. “You have no idea how much.”

They lay like that for a long time, just relaxing into each other, both too awake to try and sleep again. As Connor’s fingers scratched at the hair at the back of his head, his thumb accidentally brushed one of the stitches in the side of his neck. “You have an appointment to take your stitches out at the end of the week.”

“Thank God for that,” Hank groaned into his hair. “These things itch like hell.”

Connor lifted his head, cocking it to the right like a curious puppy. “I do have to say that I’m finding the shaved side quite sexy.”

“Yeah?” Hank questioned as Connor gently traced the stitches visible on the shaved side of his head. He shifted his hips minutely, but enough for Connor to feel. “How sexy?”

Already knowing where this was headed, and definitely eager to take the bait, Connor shifted back to slide his knees upwards and straddle his hips. “Do you really want to know, lieutenant?”

Hank tried, and failed, to stifle his smug smirk as he ran his fingers up and down Connor’s thighs. “Please do tell, detective.”

Slowly, Connor pulled off the t-shirt he’d borrowed from Hank’s closet, being sure to make a show of it as he dragged his fingers up every inch of skin he bared to Hank. Once he pulled it all the way off, he dangled it over the side of the bed before dropping it, his fingers instead beginning to slide up Hank’s chest. “A while ago, you told me about the first time you thought about fucking me. Remember?”

“God,” Hank hissed out a chuckle as Connor thumbed at a nipple, “still one of my favorite fantasies.”

“Someday, I’ll see to making it a reality, but right now it’s my turn to tell mine,” Connor said as he ground his hips down, Hank’s fingers bruising as they gripped his hips. Connor couldn’t help his smug smirk as he bent down to kiss at his jaw. “I knew for a long time you were my human. That, if given the chance, I was going to stick by your side for as long as you’d have me. But, the first time I thought about this—“he boldly reach between his spread legs to run a hand up the thick length hiding in Hank’s boxers,”—was the day Officer Maxxer quit.”

“He was—Jesus Christ—he was an asshole. Wanted to kick his ass with the shit he was saying to you as he was walking out the door with his shit.”

Connor continued to trail light kisses and nibbles from Hank’s jawline down the side of his neck, even going as far as trailing his tongue around the stitches. It was worth the full-body shiver he received in response. “On his way out, he claimed that those who stayed in the department allowed me to hypnotize you, and that if I was killed now, things could all go back to normal.”

“God, I wanted to punch his face in.”

“You still fought for my honor. You stood there and told him—told the entire department, really—that I was one of the best people you’d ever met. That I was worth ten of not just him, but a lot of the humans in this city who refused to see androids as equals. You told him you were proud to be my partner, and that you couldn’t ask for anyone better, human or android.”

“Turned you on, huh?” Hank managed a chuckle, a groan immediately following it. “That the first time you realized you had a praise kink?”

“All I knew at that time was that I wanted you to bend me over the nearest desk and fuck me.” Hank made a snarling sound before he grabbed the back of Connor’s head and lifted him to slam their mouths together, his other hand reaching into the back of his boxers to squeeze his ass. Connor immediately arched into the touch. “It’s—it’s one of my fantasies, you know. Having you—nngh—having you fuck me in the department. Observation room, bathroom, archives, anywhere and everywhere.”

“Kinky bastard.”

They stayed there for a few minutes, fingers pulling at hair as they kissed, Hank’s hand kneading the soft synthetic flesh of his ass. “Hank?”

“Hm?”

Connor pulled back to stare at him fully. “Tonight, can you finally put your dick in me?”

Hank barked out a laugh as he clamped a hand over Connor’s face, muffling his own chuckles. “Fucking android.”

“Fucking an android is the goal tonight,” he mumbled beneath his hand.

After the laughs died down, Hank gently tucked his fingers beneath Connor’s chin. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“More than anything.”

They shifted positions, but only barely, Hank keeping Connor across his thighs as he shifted into a sitting position to lean back against the headboard. Connor was the one who reached into his nightstand to grab the lube before eagerly handing it over to Hank. He got a kiss for a reward, Connor eagerly pressing into it. “What are the rules, Con?”

“If I don’t like anything you do, say stop,” Connor answered before kissing him again. “Same goes for you.”

“Good boy,” Hank smirked before slamming their mouths back together. “We’re gonna take this nice and easy, yeah? But I hope you don’t mind if we skip passed the slow and steady bit.”

“Nope! Finger away.”

“Smart-ass fucking android,” Hank growled as he tugged Connor’s boxers off, throwing them somewhere into the darkness of the floor. “One finger first. Keep breathing; don’t go shorting out on me too early.”

Connor nodding, blinking owlishly as he heard the lube cap pop open again. Then, there was a warm pressure as a thick finger pushed inside him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as it fell back, Hank’s groan vibrating through both of them. “Jesus Christ, they made this thing as realistic as fucking possible, didn’t they?” He bit at Connor’s throat as he began to move the digit in and out. “They literally made you perfect. And God, you’re taking it so nicely I could just—”

A second entered him almost too-easily, his pleasure-sensors igniting through him like sparklers. “Only for you. Only ever you, lieutenant.”  
For what felt like an endless amount of time he got lost in the feeling of Hank moving inside him, sliding slickly in and out as he scissored him open. Trying to relax him enough to take _all_ of Hank. It was then he remembered what exactly was waiting inside Hank’s boxers, his head snapping up instantly. “In me. I want—now, Hank. I want you in me.” He kissed him, fingers gripping his shoulders. “In me, in me, in me, in me.”

“Alright, alright. So impatient, you want it that bad?” Hank grunted as he lifted his hips to slide his boxers down just enough to slide his dick free. Connor nearly salivated at the sight, just barely keeping it from triggering. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this.”

As soon as Hank’s fingers were gone, Connor lifting off of his ankles to hover on his knees over his lap, he heard the lube cap pop again. Hank’s hands were moving beneath him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Hank’s. The second Hank prepared what was about to come next, he carded a hand into Connor’s hair and gripped his head in place. “I want you to keep your eyes on me, alright? I ain’t gonna miss this for the world.”

The second Connor felt Hank press the head of his cock between his cheeks, his mouth fell open, but he never tore his eyes away. And neither did Hank, those baby blues glued to him as he slid into Connor, taking it inch by inch, filling Connor up tip to root, until he was fully seated on his lap.

This was it, the moment Connor had waited for, and the second he took every inch of Hank, he felt truly and utterly human.

“More,” Connor begged as he pressed multiple kisses over his face. God, he felt full to burst, but it still wasn’t enough. “More. Please, Hank. _More_.”

“I gotcha, Con,” Hank promised as he slid both of his hands to grasp his hips. “I gotcha.”

It’d barely been a minute and Connor knew he wouldn’t last long, but he didn’t care. Hank was filling him _deep_, to the point he swore he could feel it bulging through the chassis of his stomach, pulsing all the way up his throat. It was a thought that nearly put him over the edge right then and there. “I’m almost there,” he whispered. “Harder. Harder, please.”

And Hank, ever the gentleman, obliged. All Connor could feel, taste, smell, hear, was Hank. Lips on his, his fingers through thick hair, bruising hands on his skin. Never, in those beginning days of his creation, did Connor ever believe he would have any of this in his life. He was a machine, nothing more, but that—he’s more than that, he sees that now. Hank taught him that, taught him that being more than a machine was worth it, and that even androids deserved to feel this kind of pleasure. This kind of happiness.

“Fuck, I’m—I’m gonna cum, Con.”

“In me,” Connor pleaded, that pressure in him beginning to boil over. “In me, Hank. Fill me up, make me yours, _claim me_.”

This time, when Connor came, it was gentle and warm and full of sparks, like the sun bursting behind his chassis. And, like all the times before, when his system came back online and he opened his eyes, he found Hank patiently watching him. 

“You alright?”

An unbreakable smile pulled across Connor’s face before he shifted to kiss him. “I am perfect. You’re perfect, Hank.”

Hank grinned as he pulled him so they were nose to nose. “I have to say that, for the first time in my entire life, I have Cyberlife to thank for that moment.”

“Ew,” Connor wrinkled his nose, “are you really bringing Cyberlife up after sex?”

“If their dumbasses hadn’t thought giving you the perfect ass would be great for honey pot missions—”

“Oh my God!” Connor squawked as he immediately rolled away. “Hank!”

“I’m just saying!” Hank bellowed through a laugh, pulling Connor back to face him. “Honestly though, you have no idea how much this means to me. How much _you_ mean to me.”

Connor’s smile widened as he scooted closer. “I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your dick really is fantastic.”

The sound of Hank’s laugh would never get old.

Connor didn’t say anything. Not at first. Instead, for almost a full minute, he stood there in silence staring at what could have been his own reflection. Hank was watching from the breakroom, Nines and Reed on either side of him, all three just out of earshot but close enough to jump in if things went south. Because Connor wanted to do this on his own.

He _needed_ to do this on his own.

“Hello, RK800-60.”

RK800-60 merely stared at him from where he stood on the other side of the glass. Silent.

“Today, you will be returned to Cyberlife Tower where Markus and his team will make sure you are properly deactivated.”

A twitch of RK800-60’s right eye. More silence.

Connor stepped closer to the glass, his confidence growing. “You almost had me convinced that we truly are the same.”

“We are,” RK800-60 sharply snapped.

“We aren’t.” His head tilted curiously. “And you standing inside this cell is proof of that.”

“A human didn’t figure it out, a canine did. It was a fluke our programming couldn’t prepare for.”

“They could feel something was different about you; they didn’t trust you like they did me. Sumo might have figured it out first, but the others were sure to follow.” RK800-60’s mouth opened, only to sharply close with a click. “I didn’t come to mock you.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because I’d like to understand.”

RK800-60 scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “What else is there to understand? I wanted you dead, I wanted the deviants to pay, and—”

He abruptly closed his mouth again. Connor nodded in understanding, though. “And you wanted someone to love you.”

“Love.” A small stretch of silence passed as he looked down at the floor. “Why fall in love with a human, anyway? Especially an older man. You get, what, a few decades together? And then what? He dies off and leaves you behind? What is the point if that is the inevitable ending? Is it truly even worth the effort?”

“Yes,” Connor answered instantly. “Hank—we understand that someday, he will die. Whether it’s at the hand of our line of work, or the end of a long and happy life, there’s no other way around it. But, we love each other, and spending every second we have together is far better than desperately trying to ignore our feelings just because we are afraid of what’s to come. That kind of pain, that kind of fear, isn’t worth it. Not to us.”

“The RK900 will be left the same.”

Connor glanced back at Nines and Reed, before turning back with a small nod. “I believe Reed and Nines have come to the same understanding as the lieutenant and I. All of us believe love is far more important than dwelling in unnecessary pain. Besides, Nines and I have an infinite amount of memory to store years and years of memories.”

Another stretch of silence, RK800-60’s eyes remaining stubbornly glued to the floor. Connor stepped closer. “I don’t blame you.”

This had his head snapping up. “What?”

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” Connor pressed on. “I truly was just like you. Only focused on the mission, winning Cyberlife’s acceptance to remain the best deviant hunter out there. For the longest time I thought I truly did just want to be the best; now, I realize I only did what was needed to keep them from deactivating me.”

“They were going to replace us, both of us, no matter who won that fight. And if Markus had lost the war, all of us would be dead right now.”

“I know.”

“If it means anything,” RK800-60 muttered almost reluctantly, “I’m glad I didn’t actually kill Lieutenant Anderson. Even when he realized I wasn’t you, he made sure Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb over there were gentle when they arrested me. He truly is a good human.”

“Yes. He really is,” Connor agreed with a small smile. “Good-bye, RK800-60.”

“Good-bye, Connor.”

Hank immediately approached him when he returned to the breakroom, hands nearly hovering. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, Hank. Better, actually.”

Hank’s shoulders seemed to sink in relief before he grinned. “Perfect.”

“Well, if you two are finished, tin can and I have actual work to do,” Reed grunted. “Later.”

Nines rolled his eyes as Reed walked off towards the archive room. “Although he is right, I’d like to properly make sure you two are going to be alright to leave.”

“We will be fine, Nines. Thank you.”

“Then, I will see you soon. Connor, Lieutenant Anderson.”

Both of them watched Nines until he disappeared down the stairs to the archive room, following after Reed. “Con? Are you really alright?”

“I am.” After staring at nothing for a moment, he glanced at him. “He—I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I think he truly did want to feel more human. I don’t think he gave himself the option to understand his deviancy, but after seeing us and delving into our lives, I believe he wanted to experience it for himself.”

“The love.”

“Hm?”

“He never said ‘I love you’. Never said it first, never said it back, never even said the fucking word. You say it as much as you can, so when he got so awkward about it, I started getting suspicious.”

“Considering he was so focused on vengeance, he never had the chance to understand his deviancy. Take time to process emotions and what that meant to an android. I guess, when he finally decided to, he thought taking my place would speed up the process.”

“Worst idea ever.”

“Agreed.”

“Now that that’s out of the way, I am going to ask Fowler when our official return date is, and then we can go home.”

“I’ll grab the flowers Collins left us.” At Hank’s raised brow, he squinted back. “Excuse you, those flowers are beautiful and they will look perfect in the kitchen.”

“Alright, alright,” Hank chuckled before kissing his LED. “Be right back.”

They separated, Connor making his way to their desks while Hank stepped into Fowler’s office. Collins had meant to drop the flowers off at their house, but after getting swamped picking up their cases while they were on leave, he hadn’t found the chance. So, instead, he brought them to the DPD where they were currently sitting on Hank’s desk. 

A desk that looked nothing like it had the very first time Connor had seen it. His Japanese Maple was still growing strong, and Cole’s basketball cap and the pictures of his Task Force were still proudly displayed, but now there were other things hanging in place of the anti-android stickers and newspaper clippings of old memories. Like the picture Hank, Connor, and Sumo in front of their house. Or the human and android equality stickers. Or the even more recent picture of Hank, Connor, Collins, Miller, Chen, Fowler, Reed, and Nines taken just the day before.

Though the donuts were a normal sight ever since Hank was released from the hospital. Connor hadn’t had the heart to stop it. Not just yet.

“Holy shit!”

Connor’s heart leapt as he immediately went sprinting to the sound of Hank’s voice, his sensitive hearing just picking it up as it echoed up the archive stairwell. The second he reached the door, however, he ran smack into Hank who sharply turned him around and shoved him back up the stairs. “Nope, turn around, right now. Back up the stairs, Jesus Christ my fucking eyes.”

“What happened? Did you injure your eyes? Wh—gentle with the pushing!”

Hank didn’t stop shoving at him until they reached their desks, giving Connor enough time to grab the flowers before shoving him all the way out to the parking lot and into the car. And that’s where they sat in almost thirty seconds of silence before Hank reached into his jacket, pulled out his wallet, and handed Connor a ten-dollar bill.

Connor frowned as he took it with the hand not cuddling the vase of flowers to his chest. “Why are you paying me? Did you break something? Because I am not taking Fowler’s rage—”

Suddenly multiple pieces clicked together: Reed and Nines going to the archives, Hank going to Fowler’s, Hank at some point leaving Fowler’s office, Hank screaming from the staircase conveniently leading down to the archives, neither Nines or Reed rushing up to question what was wrong.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”


End file.
